Crossing The Line
by Contained Within A Box
Summary: For two years Alphonse has kept a secret, and when Roy is caught in the act, Edward is left to pick up the pieces. Warning: child abuse, dark subject matter.
1. Chapter 1

Title: Crossing The Line

Summary: For two years Alphonse has kept a secret, and when Roy is caught in the act, Edward is left to pick up the pieces. Warning: child abuse, dark subject matter.

Disclaimer: I do not own FMA.

IIIII

_Chapter One: Broken Trust_

IIIII

_The sexual abuse and exploitation of children is one of the most vicious crimes conceivable, a violation of mankind's most basic duty to protect the innocent – James T. Walsh_

IIIII

"Don't let him in the house!"

"I'll fucking kill you, Mustang! You bastard, come out here so I can kill you! Fight with someone who can fight back you monster!" screamed Edward at the top of his lungs, not caring if the whole neighborhood heard his heartfelt cries. He could feel tears burning the back of his eyes as he stared at Roy Mustang's house. They were tears of pure fury.

"Edward, calm down," urged Hawkeye sternly.

"Don't you _dare_ tell me to calm down!" Edward snapped back.

Two men were currently holding him at bay. One had his arms snaked around Ed's waist and another was using all of his strength to keep Ed's hands apart, so the young alchemist couldn't use his much-relied on alchemy to escape and go into the house.

"Where's Alphonse? _Where_ _is_ _my_ _brother_, _Hawkeye_?" the blonde demanded to know, a dangerous tone in his voice.

"He's in the house currently--"

"With Mustang?!"

"The General is in a completely different room and is supervised by armed officials. He's not going to lay another finger on your brother, I assure you."

Edward said gravely, "He's going to regret that he ever did in the first place."

"I know revenge tops the list of your things to do right now but I need you to focus on Alphonse," said Hawkeye. She said, "If you promise to keep yourself under control you can see him. But only if, okay?"

"Why are you protecting that _criminal_?"

"Because he once meant something to me," she replied softly, a strange tone in her voice, as though she was injured. "I've lost something too today, Ed. I saw something horrible and we both have to deal with it. Now are you going to go on a childish tirade and smash everything you see or are you going to help your brother get through the most difficult time in his life?"

As much as Edward wanted to bash in Mustang's face, as much as he wanted to kill the man, or torture him into madness, he knew he couldn't. Al was vastly more important than any of those urges. So Ed made the difficult decision and stopped struggling, stopped all of his efforts to get free, and in return he was released from the men who restrained him.

"How much did Armstrong tell you?"

"Everything," answered Ed solemnly.

He remembered being taken off of the train by Armstrong, who wasn't quick to tell him what was going on. Ed had been about to go off on another mission to Megeor in the north but Armstrong said he was relieved of his duties for a while. When he asked what could have brought this on the last thing he thought he needed to worry about was Alphonse. After all, his brother was with a certified state alchemist. There's no better protection than that.

He had been dead wrong.

"_So what's going on?" Edward had inquired impatiently, not realizing the direness of the situation._

_Armstrong, who was usually unflappable, looked seriously disturbed. As a man of the military he had seen and heard horrible things, so to be distressed over something it must be very, very disconcerting._

"_It's your brother, Edward," said Armstrong lowly. "There's been . . . something horrible has occurred and--"_

"_Is he okay?" Horrid things flashed in his mind. No, no, Al can't be hurt. He left him with Mustang who had promised he would take care of his brother. When Armstrong didn't immediately reply Ed pushed forward, "I asked you a question! Is he okay?"_

"_No, he's not okay," Armstrong replied. " Which is why you need to come with me so you can be there for him. I'll tell you more in the car, this isn't for the public to hear."_

_So Edward got into the car with the man, eager to find out what had happened to Al. All sorts of things ran through his mind; did someone break into the house and hurt him? Is he . . . dead? Did he have another one of his hospital visits after collapsing from exhaustion? No, if it was only that, Armstrong wouldn't act so seriously._

"_So what is it?" Edward demanded to know._

"_There's no easy way to tell you this so I'm going to just come out and say it," the man said, his voice intense with emotion. "Today First Lieutenant Hawkeye was going to General Mustang's house to give him some papers he had forgotten to sign. It was Mustang's day off, you see, so he was . . . alone with your brother and . . . Hawkeye didn't get an answer at first when she knocked on the door so she thought something was wrong and let herself in. She . . . she heard moans—" Armstrong gripped the steering wheel tighter in anger "—and decided something was wrong. She went to the guest bedroom and opened the door to see Mustang forcing your brother to perform oral sex on him."_

_Edward sat there, stunned into silence._

_No, it's not possible._

_It couldn't be._

"_He's in good hands with me," Mustang had always said before Edward left him with him. "All you need to worry about is taking care of yourself."_

The whole time, _he_ _thought_. The whole time that bastard was tricking me into thinking he was helping Al and I by taking him in whenever I had a mission. But all of this time he's been . . . he's been . . .

_Edward thought back on all of the times he's left Alphonse with the General. Too many times to count. Was this going on right under his nose the whole time? And why wouldn't Alphonse tell him about it if it was? No, of course he wouldn't tell, he would be too scared. Mustang probably forced him into silence . . . but still . . . it hurt that Al didn't come to him with this. Edward had sworn to protect his brother, no matter what, and he's failed at that so many times now._

How can he ever forgive me? I've gone and screwed up again, _He_ _wondered_.

_With barely contained anger he asked in a shaky voice, "Do you think this has happened more than once?"_

"_I . . . I suspect so, yes."_

"_I could have protected him," hissed Edward. "If only he'd come to me."_

"_Children don't often tell because of the shame associated with it," said Armstrong. "He was probably too scared that you would blame him—"_

"_There's no reason to blame him! It's Mustang's fault. That bastard . . . I'm going to rip him to shreds. He'll be sorry he even laid eyes on my brother." Edward slammed his fist into the dashboard out of fury. "I can't believe I let this happen!"_

"_You didn't let anything happen, Edward. This is all Mustang's doing."_

"_I should have seen something. Signs, warnings, whatever."_

"_Sometimes there's nothing you can do."_

_Tears were coming towards the surface but he refused to let them spill over. He would be at Mustang's house any moment and he was going to make that man pay for ever laying a finger on his little brother._

_All of his rage, ire, and anger built up in the car. So when they arrived at the house he couldn't take it anymore and started shouting as loud as he could so Mustang could hear his yells._

"Follow me."

Edward obediently followed Hawkeye into the house he'd become all too familiar with the past two years. Edward was nineteen now, and Alphonse twelve, his body having not aged in the gate so he had come back as a ten year old with no memories. Ed had had a hard time convincing the boy that they were brothers, since in Al's mind he was only ten, making Ed eleven, and although he was still short Ed didn't have the face of an eleven year old. It had taken him atleast a couple of days to gain Al's trust again.

Now he's broken that trust. How could he ever look his younger brother in the face now? He's ultimately failed in protecting him against something so vile and disgusting. Surely there were warnings signs. Now that he thought about it . . .

The subtle changes in Al's face and body when Mustang was around, the nightmares that resulted in him waking up screaming, the cringing away from any touch. Edward had chalked the last one up to hypersensitivity and Al had always said the nightmares were about them losing their mother. But there were small enough changes in Al's attitude that if looked at from a different angle, someone could possibly suspect this kind of abuse happening. But Mustang being the perpetrator? That was what did make any sense. Why would he do something so foul? And to Alphonse, someone he supposedly cared for? Roy had been there at every birthday party and family get together, too.

_Maybe it was all just to be close to Al, _speculatedEdward.

"Hawkeye!"

Ed stopped in his tracks. Hawkeye, seeing this, grabbed his arm and tugged but he rooted to the spot. Apparently, to get to Al's room you had to pass the room Roy was being kept in.

"Tell them that this is all a mistake," said Roy, deadly calm. "Tell them that you know I wouldn't do such a thing."

"I know what I saw," is all she allowed herself to say.

Meanwhile, Edward was boiling. He was shaking with the effort to keep back his fists.

"Fullmetal knows I wouldn't do a thing to hurt Alphonse. Right, Fullmetal?"

"Don't talk to him," ordered Hawkeye severely. Edward wasn't sure which of them she was talking to, him or Roy.

"This is all a big misunderstanding. I'm sure Al is setting the record straight with the police right now."

"If he is it's only because you're a master manipulator! I trusted you, damn it!" shouted Edward, reaching his breaking point.

"Edward—" Hawkeye tried to intervene but it was useless. She couldn't stop them from yelling at eachother, if that is what they truly wanted.

"You give me too much credit. I'm not a manipulator. I—"

"Shutup, right now!" ordered Edward. It took a lot of self-control to keep himself from launching at the man. It's not likely he would get to him through the guards, but he could imagine trying very hard to do so. "I believe Al. And if he says you . . . you touched him, then I believe _him_, not you, you lying sack of shit!"

A small voice said, "Brother, is that you?"

"Al . . . " Edward thankfully left the scene to the guest bedroom down the hall, where Alphonse sat on the bed, tears in his eyes and falling in little rivulets down his face. His clothes were rumpled as if just put back on in a hurry and his hair was ruffled and out of place. He had a blanket gripped tight around his small shoulders.

At first Ed wasn't sure what to do. Should he run up and hug him? Surely that would make him stiffen and feel uncomfortable. And what should he say? There are no words to make this situation even almost okay. No amount of words would take away the pain, the suffering he must be feeling.

So instead of dramatically running up to his brother he recalled that Al needed a calm, stoic brother. He dropped down in front of Al and looked up at him and said, "Al, tell me the truth. Take your time."

"N-Nothing happ-happened," said Al, choking on his words. He had contracted a habit of stammering when extremely stressed. "Mr. Mustang and I were fine. Miss H-Hawkeye didn't s-see anything."

"You know that's a lie, Al," said Hawkeye. "Your brother asked for the truth. Please, let us help you."

"Mr. Mustang i-is my-my friend! He wouldn't h-hurt me."

Edward took his younger brother's hands into his and squeezed comfortingly. There was an angered edge to his tone, but it wasn't directed towards Al. "Then why are you acting like you have something to hide? You're shaking, you're stuttering. Everything points to 'something happened'. You're not the one that has to be ashamed, Al, it's Mustang who's at fault here. And me. I should have protected you better—"

"Brother, nothing happened. Please. Stop all this. You can go on your mission."

"Whatever Mustang told you were _lies_," said Edward. "You don't have to protect him."

"Go t-to Megeor, brother!"

"I'm not leaving until you tell me the truth!"

"The tr-truth is th-that nothing ha-happened!"

"Damn it, Al, don't lie to me! I'm your brother. I'm trying to help you. We all are. We're on your side, not his."

Alphonse squeezed his eyes shut and bit his lower lip. A small whimper escaped from his mouth but nothing more. After that he refused to talk. No amount of demands or coddling brought about results.

"What do we do?" asked Edward of Hawkeye not twenty minutes later. The police were still trying to get Al to answer some basic questions. They were in Mustang's kitchen, helping themselves to coffee. "He's obviously not going to cooperate. Mustang's got him brainwashed or something."

"If we can't get him to talk soon the police will have nothing to go on and we'll have to let Mustang go."

"What? You've got to be kidding me! They have a witness!"

"I'm no good if the victim won't talk."

"This is so frustrating!" exclaimed Edward. "Isn't it obvious my brother is traumatized?"

"Like I just said, if Al won't talk, they don't have a case."

"What if I make Mustang admit to it?"

"The likelihood of that happening is next to nothing. He would first have to have a conscience."

"I said _make_ him admit to it," repeated Ed. "Give me five minutes alone with him and he'll be begging to give his story to the police."

"The likelihood of that happening is even less likely than next to nothing."

"You're protecting a child molester, you realize this, right?" angrily demanded Ed.

"I'm no fool, Ed. I know what he is." Hawkeye set down her cup of coffee, gazing into it, seeing her reflection in the small waves. "Atleast, I thought I knew who he was. This new Roy is someone entirely different. The man I knew wouldn't hurt a child. But this one is capable of anything."

"I don't understand how he could do this," whispered Ed. "I thought he cared about Al. I never imagined . . . "

"This isn't your fault," said Hawkeye, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Just like it isn't Al's. You're an innocent bystander in Roy's sick little game."

"That's just it. I'm a bystander. I didn't do anything. He's my little brother. I should have noticed something, I should have done something!"

"Even Al doesn't want to admit what happened. How were you supposed to see something he isn't willing to face himself?" Hawkeye asked.

Edward hasn't an answer for this because there is none. He wished he had all the answers, than things would be a lot more easy on the brothers. It seemed that even when their life was normal things always took a turn for the worst. Was normality too much to ask for? Couldn't they lead an everyday life for once without something life shattering happening? First their mother, then the botched transmutation, then everything that followed, and now this bombshell.

"Atleast we now know that Roy can't be trusted. No more harm will come to Al now."

"Yeah because I won't let it happen. He's not coming within twenty feet of Al now. Al's coming with me on every mission I go on. That way I can protect him."

"As much as you may want to you can't protect him from everything, Ed," sagely said Hawkeye. She sighed and took a sip of her coffee. There was a haunted look in her eyes that reminded Edward that she saw something today that she shouldn't have seen, something that would stay with her forever.

"Are you okay?" asked Ed warily. It felt weird to ask Hawkeye that since she always appeared to be fine.

"I'll be okay, yes. I'm just in shock, I suppose. I've seen a lot of gruesome things, having been in a war, but still none of it compares to what I witnessed today."

"What did Mustang say? When you caught him, I mean?"

"If you can imagine it, he begged me not to tell anyone. Of course it was after he had locked the door. In my haste I kicked it off its hinges but that gave him enough time to talk to Al and convince him not to say anything."

"Why does he have Al wrapped around his finger?" Edward's grip on his coffee cup suddenly tightened. "How does that happen? I would think he would want to report Mustang for what he's done."

"There's a relationship between the abused and the abuser that no one will ever understand," she said.

Edward stood up, a determined look about him. "That's it. I'm going to talk to Al some more."

"Ed, don't push him too hard. He might snap."

"He not only needs to do it for himself, but what if some other kid gets alone with Mustang? What then? It needs to stop now."

"Ed . . . wait a minute," Hawkeye said, stopping him by grabbing ahold of his arm. He didn't fight or shrug it off so she continued, "I have a difficult question to ask. You may not want to hear it, but I'm asking it because it could have happened. Did Roy ever touch you or make inappropriate gestures towards you?"

"Never!" Edward tore his hand away as if stung. "If I had known that Roy was capable of doing that I would have never let Al anywhere near him!"

"Okay. I had to make sure. Because if he did, we could have prosecuted him on that. Then again, it depends on what age you were because there is a limitation on when you can prosecute someone for that crime."

"Well it never happened," grumbled Ed. "And if it had I would have knocked his ass out even if he is a lot older than me."

Edward walked over towards the hall and got the inevitable, "Hey Fullmetal" call from Roy, but Edward wasn't listening this time. It wasn't until he said, "Give Al a message for me, would you? Tell him 'thank you'. He'll understand what it means."

The blonde exploded. "You're a disgusting man, Mustang! How dare you hurt Al and then pretend like you didn't! Tell them the truth! Tell them that you've been having sex with a twelve year old, you sick pervert!"

"I very well can't tell them something that isn't true, now can I, Fullmetal?" replied Roy, keeping his cool. Noting how upset Edward was, the police did a smart move and stood in front of the General.

Edward was doing his damndest to control himself. He was doing surprisingly well, too. For someone who had that strong of an urge to punch someone else in the face he kept in control of his anger and didn't let emotions override his logic. Logic told him to walk away, that this was an unwinnable battle. Mustang would only tease, prod, and poke until he got the results he wanted; which were most likely to drive Ed to the point of hitting him, thus throwing him into jail. Well Ed wasn't going to fall for it.

"Brother? Can I talk to you?"

Edward put on a brave smile. "Of course, Al. You can talk to me about anything." He sent one more hateful glare Roy's way and then followed Al into the main bedroom.

"Brother, I'm done talking to the police. I'm done talking to e-everyone." Al took in a deep breath so he could control his stammering. After taking a moment he continued, "I want to go home now, 'kay?"

"You're just going to let him go? Just like that?" asked Edward of the officers.

One officer shook his head. "If he doesn't report a crime, we have nothing to go on."

"Al you have to—"

"Brother, _please_, stop it."

With a great effort Edward heaved a sigh and said, "We'll go home but we're going to talk about this later."

Al looked rather defeated, and nodded. He took his brother's hand which is something he only does when he feels immensely insecure.

"Al."

Alphonse looked up to see Mustang being taken out of his handcuffs.

"You're welcome to stop by any time, no matter what your brother or anyone says. Be sure to do that, okay?"

"Don't listen to him," growled Edward, jerking on his brother's hand to make him follow.

"Goodbye Al, Fullmetal."

Al stayed silent.

"I'll drive you home since you don't have your vehicle with you," offered Hawkeye as soon as they walked into the kitchen. Her kind eyes fell on Al, who immediately looked away. She frowned at this but figured that after what he'd been through, and having been found out by her, he wouldn't look at her the same for quite some time.

"Thanks. We would appreciate that."

On the way back home, Al was quiet and withdrawn. He spoke in a small voice but only when spoken to. Edward worried continuously throughout the ride for his brother's well-being. What would happen now that the truth was out? Or, atleast, half-way out? Al refused to talk about it or admit that it happened. Ed knew deep down that this was the truth. That Mustang was a pedophile who had been sexually abusing his brother for one can only guess how long. It was a tough pill to swallow but he had to take it nonetheless. If he denied it it would only make things harder for Al. He had to make his younger brother realize denial was no longer an option here. If they were going to survive this stage in their life they would both have to come to terms with the situation. Not to mention he had to worry about Mustang still walking the streets.

Now if only Edward knew where to start.

IIIII

**Was it crappy? Do you hate it, or do you want more? I love, LOVE reviews. They keep me writing!**

**Also, I should clear this up before I get complaints; yes, it's plausible that Al wouldn't report Mustang for what he's done. As Hawkeye said the relationship between the abused and the abuser is a complicated one, and someone who is abused for over a long period of time CAN grow a demented attachment to their abuser. It makes it easier to deal with the abuse. It's a coping mechanism so things don't seem so bad.**

**NOW REVIEW, DARN IT.**


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two: Sickening_

IIIII

_Molesters do not wear an ugly mask. They wear a shield of trust – Patty Rase Hopson_

IIIII

Edward tossed and turned in bed that night. Numerous things were going through his head, most of them concerning Alphonse and how he was coping with this. How was he going to get his brother to admit to what Mustang had done? There seemed to be a sick bond between Al and Mustang that Edward didn't understand. Was this per usual for those who were abused? Edward didn't think it was. Most victims he had heard of hated their abusers and wanted to turn them in but didn't out of fright. It appeared, in this case, that Al genuinely cared for Mustang and didn't want to see his 'friend' turned in. His 'friend Mr. Mustang' would never hurt him, he had said. Did he even realize the inappropriateness of what was going on?

Maybe Ed would have to educate him on that. Show him what the difference is between good touch and bad touch. Then, perhaps, Al would grasp the concept that Mustang had crossed the line a long time ago.

How long the abuse has gone on is another question Edward wanted an answer to. If it has gotten to the point where Al has associated abuse with compassion it must have started soon after Al got his body back. Edward remembers all of the times he's left Al in Roy's care, thinking nothing of it, and it makes Ed's blood boil. If Al was abused even half of the times he left him with Roy it was many, many times. Mustang would even call out of the blue and say he had a day off, so he would take Al off of Ed's hands and take him to the park or something equally nice.

All lies. Every word of it.

Then there was the fact that he still worked under Mustang. There was no question to it; he was quitting, and then he was going to find out a way to put that man in jail for a very, very long time. He would eventually get the truth out of Alphonse. It was only a matter of time before the poor child buckled underneath the pressure.

"Brother?"

Edward propped himself up on his elbows and saw Alphonse standing in his doorway, an unsure look in his grey eyes. Light from the hallway poured in shadowing half of his face, but from the red rim around the eye Ed could see made it look like he'd been crying again.

"What are you crying about, Al?" sensitively asked Ed.

"Ummm . . ." He bit his lower lip in thought. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

"Another nightmare?"

Al nodded. "I just can't shake this one off . . . "

"Come on, then." Edward lifted up the sheets allowing his younger brother access. "You know my bed always has an open spot for you."

Al smiled slightly and climbed in. He cuddled up against his brother, feeling much safer that way. He knows his brother would protect him from the bad men in his dreams if they were to ever come alive.

"Can you tell me what this one was about?" inquired Edward sensitively.

Al buried his face into the extra pillow for comfort. The last thing he wanted to do was discuss the nightmare. It would make it all too real. He shook his head and muttered, "I'm still scared."

"You're safe here, Al. You can tell me anything," reminded Ed, using a soothing tone to relax his brother.

"I know I can," shyly acknowledged Alphonse, "but I'm still scared. I don't . . . I keep having nightmares and I don't want to bother you with them."

"Bother me? You think you're bothering me?" Edward let out a humorless chuckle. "You could never bother me Al! You know that, don't you?"

"Sometimes . . . " Al stopped himself. "I really don't bother you?"

"Of course not!" scoffed the elder Elric. He put a comforting hand on Al's shoulder and with a gentle smile he added, "If anything I'm the one always bothering you. 'Hey Al, can you do this for me?', 'Hey Al, can you fix this for me?'"

"Yeah right," snickered Al. "I don't fix anything for you, brother. You're the one who always fixes things."

Edward smiled outwardly and laughed, but inside he couldn't have been more torn up.

_But apparently I can't fix you,_ thought Edward. _Not yet, anyway. Not until you let me._

"Do you think we can go out and do something fun tomorrow? After you're done working, that is?" asked Al excitedly. "I really want to go to the park and feed the birds."

"Sure thing." He ruffled his little brother's hair. "And . . . I guess you should know this. I'm going to be out of work for a while."

"Why, brother?" curiousity rang in Al's voice.

"Well I'm certainly not going to work underneath that--that--" Words couldn't describe how angered Edward felt. His hands fell to his sides and balled up into fists. "I refuse to work with that bastard. So I'm quitting the military and I'm going to find a different job. We might have to go without some things for a little while, like eating out every week or our many trips to see Winry, but we'll get by."

"Yeah, we'll get by. I know we will brother," said Al. And him saying that only made it all the more true.

"Now lets get some sleep." Edward laid back down, his back towards Al.

"'Kay. Brother?" Alphonse couldn't help it, he had to face his brother, just for confirmation that there was someone here to protect him.

"Yeah?"

"Is . . . is it my fault that you're quitting?"

"Never think that it's your fault, Al. Never," said Edward severely. "Now let's get to sleep. I don't know about you but I don't have the energy of a certain twelve year old I happen to know."

Alphonse fell to sleep with a smile on his face.

IIIII

Edward wasn't sure what he was to expect the next day at the military building. Was Mustang going to completely ignore what happened yesterday, or was he going to provoke Ed into doing something he shouldn't? He knew he was this close to snapping and if there was a window of opportunity for him for him to snatch the bastard by his hair and make him eat the ground, then yes, he would definitely do that.

There was one thing Ed was sure of; he wasn't going to let Al out of his sight for quite some time. So he took him along for the ride. They got into Edward's vehicle and drove in silence on their way to Ed's workplace.

It wasn't until they reached the building that Edward said, "I want you to stay with Havoc until I'm done talking to Mustang. You're by no means to go anywhere near Mustang, understand?"

"Yes, brother," flatly agreed Al.

"We'll go the park after this. I promise." This put a smile on Alphonse's face, so naturally he smiled too.

The two Elrics walked into the compound. Edward nodded at some of the personel he passed, a fair amount of them whispering. He knew that part of the story must have gotten around by now. Hopefully some of these guys would give Mustang hell for what he's done to Al, since Al is so loved by many who work with him.

Usually the younger brother was gabbing away about something but this day he was as quiet as a mouse. Timid, too. He practically hid behind his brother. Al seemed all too aware of what was going on; that people were talking about him, and what happened the other day.

"Brother, they're talking about us, aren't they?" whispered Al.

"Just ignore them. Ignorant gossipers are what they are," replied Edward calmly.

Edward had come in around noon so he knew where Havoc would be; in the cafeteria, stuffing his face, maybe trying to hit on a few girls without great success. Although the man could be sufficiently annoying at times he could look after Al for atleast a half an hour without much ruckus. He would have Hawkeye do it but . . .

_"Ed, I need to talk to you for a moment," said Hawkeye. Something in her tone added 'alone'._

_"Why don't you go inside Al?" suggested Ed. Al nodded, taking his leave and going towards their home._

_"I'm taking tomorrow off," said Hawkeye as Ed exited the car, going over to the drivers side window._

_Edward blinked in confusion. "What's going on tomorrow that you have to leave?"_

_"I have some off days stocked up and I'm going to use one of them. Today really disturbed me and I don't trust myself around the General right now. I need some time to mull things over."_

_Edward nodded. "I understand. I'm . . . really sorry you saw what you saw."_

_"I don't think I am," bravely she confessed._

_"What? Why?"_

_"Because if I didn't witness the abuse, the silence would have gone on. And that's something I'm not willing to let happen."_

_Before Edward could head into his house Riza added, "And I know what you're thinking Ed. You're going to quit."_

_"I--"_

_"I don't blame you one bit. You go ahead and do that. It's for the best." She kindly smiled at him. "I would quit too but I have nothing to fall back on. And besides, if I'm close to the General, I can still keep an eye on him."_

So he was left with Havoc, which wasn't a bad choice, but he wasn't Ed's first choice neither.

"Hey Major Havoc!" called out Edward, waving his hand high above his head in the crowd. Three tables down from him a man with darkish blonde hair with a tuft of light blonde in the front looked up from the card game he was currently playing. He waved them over with a goofy grin on his face.

"Could you look after Al for me for about a half an hour or so?"

"Sure thing, chief," muttered Havoc through his cigarette. "Have a sit down kid. Maybe you'll be my good luck charm and I'll win this round."

"Okay!" chirped Al, sitting down next to the Major.

Satisfied that Alphonse was safe for now, Edward said his goodbyes and took off towards the office where Mustang was.

IIIII

"What do you mean he's gone?" growled Edward.

Breda put his hands up in surrender. "I don't know where he went, Ed, all I know is that he said he would be right back."

Edward took a seat at the couch, crossing his arms and legs, a brooding look about him. He didn't appear to be in the mood for light chatter but this didn't stop Breda or Fuery from asking their questions or making statements.

"So, Ed, um . . . I heard some pretty nasty things went down yesterday," said Breda in what he hoped came across as a nonchalant voice.

"Yeah. Can you comfirm what we heard or . . . ?" Fuery seemed reluctant to talk about it but a morbid sense of curiosity kept him going.

"It depends on what you heard," said Ed, more than a little vexed.

"That General Mustang was almost arrested because he hurt Al," Breda said.

"Yeah," verified Ed. "That monster got away with hurting Al. That's all there is to know."

"But what _happened_?" Breda inquired. "But why would the General hurt Al? I've worked with that man for years and he wouldn't hurt children, he loves them."

"That's exactly my point!" Ed was losing his cool at this point. "He's a fucking pedophile and no one's realized it until now. My little brother is probably just one of his many victims. I came in here today to quit so you'll never see me again, and it's all thanks to him. I won't be able to work around someone who does that to children. If you have any guts you'll quit working underneath him too."

"We don't know if it's true though. I mean, maybe it's a misunderstanding," Fuery said, clinging to the last shred of hope he had. He didn't want to see Mustang in that light.

"Hawkeye herself caught him in the act. Why would she lie about something like this?"

"Like I said maybe it's all a misunderstanding--"

"There's no way it is, Fuery! I trust Hawkeye, and if she says she saw Mustang abusing Al, then Mustang abused Al," aruged the blonde with fevor. "If you guys want to believe Mustang is innocent, go ahead, let him fool you with his act. But I'm going to put him in jail for what he's done, no matter how long it takes."

"If he really did what you said he did then why wasn't he arrested?" disputed Breda.

"Because Al refuses to turn him in. Don't ask me why because I don't know. I'm still trying to figure that part out," said Ed derisively.

"Maybe he's too scared," Fuery proposed.

"That or Mustang has talked him out of telling. Al can be gullible, he'll believe what adults tell him simply because they're adults," said Ed, tapping his chin in thought.

"So where is Al? I would think he would be glued to your side," said Fuery.

"I left him with Havoc in the cafeteria."

"If this really happened--" Breda started, but Edward interrupted angrily.

"Would you stop doubting it? Everything I told you is true! Al's gone through hell and you can't even summon up the decency to ask if he's okay!" shouted Edward, shooting up from the couch, enraged at these two 'friends' of his.

"Calm down Ed, geesh. I didn't mean for it to sound like that. I'm sorry you took it that way. What I was going to say was that I hope Al will come through this all right. He's a good kid, he doesn't deserve any of that. No kid does, really, but for it to happen to Al . . . " Breda shook his head in utter disappointment. "I'm sorry, Ed."

"Me too," added Fuery. "But you have to understand that it's hard for us to comprehend that the General did something that horrible. We've worked with him for a long time and we thought we knew him."

Edward plopped back down on the couch apparently satisfied with their reactions. "Yeah, yeah."

The conversation died down after that. Fuery and Breda went to their paperwork and Edward sat there waiting for Mustang. It was taking much longer than he originaly anticipated. If there was one thing Edward hated it was waiting. It required sitting in one spot for a long period of time, which he can't stand. He needed to be up and moving. Besides, he reached the half an hour mark about fifteen minutes ago. Plus he promised Al he would take him to the park and he knows how anxious his little brother gets when he's promised something and doesn't get to do it until later in the day.

Edward contemplated skipping working and calling in to quit, but he had to return his State-issued pocket watch. He wanted to confront Mustang too, without the police standing in his way. He wanted an excuse to punch the guy in the mouth or kick him in the family jewels. In truth Ed was looking for trouble and he was likely to find it. He wished he could get just ten minutes alone with Mustang. Only ten minutes, that's all he asks! And without those gloves because that would make beating his ass all the more easier. Then again, ten minutes of physical pain wouldn't be enough. He needed to realize the impact he's had on Al. If only he could experience the nightmares himself, sustain the the same psychological damage Alphonse has that only a sexual abuse victim can suffer. Of course there's no way he could inflict this pain so that idea flew out the window.

Falman came into the office with a half-eaten sandwhich in hand. He chewed absent-mindedly and when he saw Ed he said, "Hello Ed."

"Hi Falman. Do you know where I could find Mustang?"

"Oh I just talked to him and Al," he said. "They were out in the court yard."

"_What_? And you didn't separate them?"

"What? What's wrong?" Falman was taken aback by Edward's severe tone.

"There are some people who haven't heard it yet, Ed," Fuery spoke up.

"Heard what? What am I missing?"

Edward swore underneath his breath and ran out of the room. He was then face to face with Havoc, who was just lighting up a cigarette.

"You idiot!" snapped Ed, grabbing Havoc by the front of his shirt. "Didn't I say for you to watch over him? That meant protect him too! How'd he get near that bastard?"

"Mustang, chief? I left him with him because I had some work to do. He was fine with it--"

"Of course he was fine with it! He's a child molester!"

"W-What?" Havoc nervously laughed. "You've got to be kidding me."

"If you haven't heard the news already he was almost arrested for molesting my brother!" shouted Edward, not caring if it echoed down the hallway, or if the Fuhrer himself heard his cries.

Then, without waiting for a reply, he dashed off towards the court yard. It was a public area for the officers to relax but most of the men and women in the military would be going back to work by now and it would be vacant; the perfect place to corner a child and scare him some more.

It was sickening, this obsession Roy had for Al. Edward had looked back on all the times Roy had visited them, Al specifically since he had no next to no interest in Ed, all of the times he made special days just for him, intentionally leaving Edward out of it. It was like Roy was an infatuated teenager. He couldn't leave his crush alone even if it meant the wrath of the older brother. And oh no, Edward wasn't going to let him get away with this. Especially if he caught Mustang hurting Al again.

_I'll be damned before I let _that _happen again,_ thought Edward.

He reached the court yard muttering, "Where are they? Where are they?" desperately. He scoured the land for them and at the far corner, almost wholy concealed by a pillar, were the figures of an older man and a young boy.

Edward raced towards them and skidded to a stop when he got a foot away. The scene before him was this; Roy was towering and leaning over Alphonse, his arm propped up against the wall, their bodies very close. Al was looking up at Roy with a heavy amount of apprehension and timidity. He was scrunched up, his arms hugging his body as though trying to protect himself, or make himself smaller so the predator wouldn't take notice of the prey.

"Step away from Al. _Now_," Edward said in a dangerously low tone. His hands balled up into fists and he took a step forward, ready to pounce on Mustang if he made even the slightest move towards his brother.

"I'm not hurting him. See? Completely unharmed," said Mustang, standing up fully. "We were just having a little chat. There's no wrong doing in that now is there?"

"Chatting my ass! You probably have worse things on your mind right now, you pervert!" Edward shifted his focus towards Al. "Didn't I tell you not to go near him?!"

"Sorry brother," said Al ashamedly. "But Mr. Havoc said to go with Mr. Mustang and I didn't want to be rude--"

"That's right Al. You didn't want to be rude, like your brother here."

"I'm not rude, I just hate your guts!"

"I'm not particularly fond of you either, Fullmetal. Atleast not anymore."

"Well I'm not twelve years old anymore now am I? I can fight back too if you were to try anything, which I'm sure you would hate," Ed shot back. "You're a damn coward. Cornering _kids_. Are you proud of what you are?"

"I don't have any clue what you're talking about."

Edward shot forward in an attempt to strike Mustang, but Alphonse stepped forward first and blocked his path. "Brother, no!"

"Al get out of the way!"

"I said no!" said Al thickly. "No fighting! Let's just go to the park like you promised, okay? Please?"

"Al you're protecting someone who seriously hurt you," Edward tried to persuade him into clear thinking. "Do you want him to get away with it unhurt?"

"We only fight when it's in self-defense, remember?" reminded Al. "Please don't make a scene, brother, it'll only make things worse."

"Listen to him," advised Mustang, "he's much more mature than you."

Al opened his mouth for a rebuttal but snapped it shut. Edward wondered what he was going to say, but found it unlikely that he would talk back to his abuser, even if it meant not sticking up for his brother.

"You know what? You're not even worth it," Edward said, spitting at Mustang's feet. He took out his pocket watch and threw it on the ground adding, "Oh, and by the way, I _quit_."

"Your reason for doing so?" Roy quirked a brow as though merely amused by Ed's actions.

"Because you're a prick, that's why. Put that in your paperwork and see what the reaction is. And I've spread the word that you're a child molester, Mustang, so if you get your ass beat it's all thanks to me."

This seemed to strike a cord with the previously unflappable man. He sneered, "You little--"

"Ah, ah. Don't make a scene. It'll only make things worse, isn't that right Al?" Edward grabbed his younger brother by his shoulder and said, "Let's get going. I'm already tired of this idiot."

"Remember what we talked about Alphonse," said Mustang with a sweet tone in his voice. It was as if he were trying to provoke Edward into another attack.

"Let's go to the park and forget about all of this nonsense," said Edward.

This time, Al didn't smile.

IIIII

**I hope this is up to par. At the very least, it's not the worst I've ever written. Also sorry about the shortness, I wanted to get this up before the weekend.**

**REVIEWS? They would be nice. Don't be TOO harsh. -hides-**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I feel the need to say before this chapter begins that no matter what direction this seems to be going, there ARE NO PAIRINGS besides the noncon RoyAl. No EdWin, sorry.**

_Chapter Three: Told_

IIIII

_Abuse is the weapon of the vulgar - Samuel Griswald Goodrich_

IIIII

Edward still gained no knowledge of the conversation that went on between Roy and Al over the next few days following the incident. Al would either nonsubtley change the subject or ignore it all together. Ed even tried bribing his younger brother with promises of all the toys he could buy but that didn't persuade him either.

Most of all, Edward hated the cresfallen look on Al's face when he mentioned anything closely related to that time. It really broke Ed's heart to see him so dejected because of something that happened to him, something that wasn't even his damn fault.

It was Edward's fault, mostly. If only he had kept a better eye on him. If only he had made sure to have told Havoc not to let Al near Mustang, then none of that would have ever had to have happened.

_Why do I keep failing?_ wondered Edward, in bed one night, Al sound asleep next to him.

There was also another matter he was worrying about and putting off until the last second.

Winry.

She had every right to know what was going on. They were practically family, and to deny her knowledge of what was going on would be cruel. Winry had made Edward promise soon after Al had gotten his body back that there would be no more secrets, since he and Al were so apt at keeping them. He had made that promise knowing it would be very difficult to keep. Although Ed liked to keep things to himself and take care of his problems on his own, if he ultimately lost sight of what he was doing and needed a break he could always go to the Rockbell estate. It was a place he could count on to always be there for him and Al. Winry was a very reliable friend.

So he really should tell her. But he was at a crossroads; doing it over the phone definitely had it's setbacks. He knew Winry would be extremely upset at this news, as everyone was, but it seemed insensitive to want to give the news over the phone. She would just want to come to Central anyway. Why not bring her to Central first and then tell her the news? But then again this is Winry. She would demand to know what was going on even before she got to Central. To tell over the phone or not?

_I'm better off telling her it's an emergency and having her come here_, thought Ed four days after the happening. He knew she would be pissed for not having called her immediately but he didn't really care. He had had a lot of things on his mind at that time and having one more person in on the mix hadn't appealed to him a whole lot.

So after telling Alphonse it was a private call and to go play in another room, Edward called the number from his home.

"Rockbell Automail. This is Winry Rockbell how may I help you?"

"Winry? Um, hi." This was seriously uncomfortable. He hated being the bearer of bad news, even if he wasn't going to give it away right now. Just knowing he was going to have to tell her sooner or later bothered him.

"Ed! So what have you been up to? How's Al?"

"Nothing much. And Al . . . Al's okay, I guess. Um, there's something really important I need to discuss with you so I need you to come to Central, okay?"

"The best I can do is coming in at about . . . let me look at my schedule . . . two weeks."

Gathering up all of his courage he said, "Look, Winry, you know as well as I do that I don't ask for a lot of favors. And that I wouldn't ask this of you if it weren't absolutely necessary but, well, I need you to drop everything you have and come straight to Central."

"Ed, I'm a very busy person. I can't leave grams with all of the work."

"I know you're a busy person Winry but this is an emergency. You know that I don't ask for help unless I need it and . . . " Edward's voice was getting an angry tinge to it so he stopped himself before he went on a tirade. Besides, asking for help has never been one of Ed's strong points.

"Point taken. Just tell me what this is about and then I'll come right over."

He knew she'd say that. "I can't. It's something that I should tell you about when you get here."

"Then how do I know it's important enough to leave my work for? I have a lot of customers that would be very angry if I were to just drop them."

"Winry, you're the one who didn't want secrets kept from you," he snapped.

She sighed on the other side of the line. "I know I said that but I need to know these things so I can atleast tell grams why I'm leaving."

"Tell her it's important. Al needs you right now--"

"Al? What's wrong with Al? Just a second ago you said he was okay," said Winry, sounding very concerned.

"Well something is wrong but I don't want to tell you until you get here."

"And why's that?"

"I'm sorry Winry but you'll have to wait until you get here to find out. I don't want to tell you over the phone. I think it's something I have to do in person. Besides, it's not good news, and I need you to come here to help me with Al."

"Just tell me Al isn't hurt. I need to hear that."

"Al isn't hurt," he sighed. "But something did happen which is why I need you to get on the train to Central tomorrow."

"Are you kidding? I'm coming _today_," she announced. "If it's so important that you have to ask for help, which you never do, then it really must be urgent. It's ten in the morning and I know there should be one going out at one. So I'll be there tonight, okay?"

"Thanks Winry. I owe you one."

With this said he hung up the phone. _That went better than expected,_ he thought smiling slightly.

Edward's was trying to think positive. Maybe having Winry talk to Al was the best thing. If there was anyone Al would talk to about the abuse it would be her. Ever since they were children, Al had always had a soft spot for Winry, maybe even a little crush. They did used to fight all the time over who would marry her. Edward laughed lightly at the memory.

"Who were you talking to, brother?" asked Alphonse.

"Just Winry. Guess what? She's coming to Central, today even!"

Al's face automatically lit up. "Yay! Winry's coming!" he said with childish delight. "Why is she coming over so quick, brother?"

"She couldn't resist not seeing her prince charming for another day," sighed Edward dramatically, making Alphonse go as red as a tomato. This made Edward go into a long fit of laughter.

"Shutup brother!" snapped the young boy. He took a pillow off the couch and smacked Ed over the head with it.

"Oh you're in for it now, Al!" playfully warned Edward, jumping up from where he was sitting and chasing his giggling brother down the hallway, pillow in hand. "Come back here so I can get my revenge!"

They ended up having a huge pillow fight, resulting in one permanently damaged pillow, and sporting some red marks from where they hit eachother multiple times with just the pillow covers. It was something Edward fully enjoyed. Seeing his little brother laugh, especially knowing what he does now, makes these times all the more special to him. Edward would do anything to see his little brother smile, even act like a complete goof.

At first Ed thought raising a ten year old was going to be nothing but a thorn in his side. Not to say that Al was a thorn in his side, but he wasn't equipped to raise a ten year old. Hell, he had been only seventeen! It was a daunting task for any seventeen year old. At first he considered moving back to Resembool so Winry and Aunt Pinako could help (they were all too willing) but with Al so sickly he didn't want to risk moving him for quite a while. So he was left with no options but to take care of him himself.

But, of course, there was Mustang. Damn him. He made it seem like he swooped in at their time of need and helped Edward start his new life. He helped him get a nice house for cheap, even helped with bills, all the while molesting Al under Ed's nose. How could he have not seen the signs? Mustang never showed that side of himself to Ed. If he had tried to molest Ed when he had become his subordinate he would have gotten an automail fist rammed down his throat.

As the time of Winry's arrival drew close, Edward became increasingly nervous. How was he going to give this news? How was she going to react? Surely she'd want to go off and murder the bastard just as Ed does, but he'd unfortunately have to stop her.

Then there was the afterwards to worry about. She'd want to get the truth out of Al, but how would they be able to do that? He was obviously too scared to tell them anything. They would have to convince him, somehow, that Mustang wasn't going to do any more damage to him. Now Edward knew, and would do what he should have done in the beginning, which is protect him at all costs.

"B-Brother, hahaha! Sta-haha-hap it!" Alphonse begged as Edward tickled his sides.

"Say Uncle!"

"Ne-hehehe-ver!"

"Then I'm not stopping!" Edward said. He knew his brother was extremely ticklish, and it was so funny just to see him writhe underneath him in a desperate attempt to get away.

"I-I'll hahahaa gehehet you bahahahack eeeee!" he squealed when Ed reached his underarms and his efforts to get free increased doubled. He finally managed to wiggle out from underneath Ed and ran down the hallway back into the living room. This is where he saw the time and said, "Um, brother? I think we're late for getting Winry."

"What? No way! Crap. She'll be pissed!"

IIIII

"I was here for _half an hour_, Edward! Did you _forget _about me? Am I _that _forgettable?" snapped Winry, even making people passing by flinch.

"Al and I were messing around lost track of time. I'm sorry, okay?"

"No, it's not okay!" she huffed, crossing her arms. "I rushed over here by your request and you forget. Nice going, Ed."

"You're acting as though you were here for two hours. Quit your griping and get in the car."

"Don't worry, Al, I'm not mad at you," said Winry kindly. She ruffled his hair with a smile that could light up a room. Alphonse blushed lightly at the touch. "Now give me a hug."

The two hugged and Alphonse could see Edward grinning over Winry's shoulder. He gave his little brother a thumbs up and mouthed 'Good job'. Al stuck his tongue out at his brother in return. When they let go of eachother Winry looked over Al, as though seeing if any harm had been brought to him. Ed figured it was because he had insinuated Al wasn't completely okay.

"Are you feeling okay?" asked Winry concernedly.

"Um . . . yeah," said the twelve year old slowly, not knowing why this question was being asked.

"Good. Now let's get going."

The three got into the car, Edward driving and Al and Winry in the back. Edward mostly made promises of taking the two shopping, since Winry kept hinting that she needed that new and updated screwdriver she saw advertised, and as for taking Al shopping, well, he simply wanted to see his younger brother happy. If this meant spoiling him, so be it.

When they arrived at Edward's home, they entered the house, all smiles. Edward began to feel guilty that he was setting the mood high because Winry was going to get the shock of her life. He wasn't going to do it right away, probably after Al went to sleep so they wouldn't be disturbed. It was the getting Al to sleep part that worried him--he could be quite manic when there were guests, especially Winry.

Ed lugged his friend's things to her room. She had followed him and seemed to have something to say playing upon her lips, but she was holding it back. It was so unlike Winry that Ed felt the need to ask, "What's going on? You're usually vocal about what you want to say. So say it."

"What's wrong with Al?" she asked nervously. "He seems fine. I mean, when I looked at him, he seemed okay, but . . . "

"There seems to be something a bit off, right?" said Ed. "I'll tell you after Al's gone to sleep. If he walked in on it he would be very upset."

Winry nodded, determination set in her jaw. "All right then. But you promise? Promise you'll tell me the whole truth."

"I promise, Winry. I have no more secrets."

"Brother! Winry! Where are you--oh, here you are," said Al, a smile on his face. Then it became mock-serious as he added, "No whispering. Mom always said whispering doesn't make friends."

"What do you guys want for dinner?" asked Edward of Al and Winry, changing the subject not-so-subtly.

"How about I cook? I'm surprised Al has survived up to this point on your cooking," joked Winry.

"Hey! Don't make jokes at my expense!"

Ignoring him completely she said, "Now let's see what you have in stock." She opened the cupboards she found mostly cereal, peanut butter, bread, and jelly. "What? Do you guys live on peanut butter and jelly sandwiches? That's hardly healthy."

Edward laughed nervously. "We mostly eat out."

"Yeah but brother said we have to stop eating out so much now that he quit the military." Al seemed to catch the glare his elder brother threw his way because he slapped a hand over his mouth immediately afterwards.

Winry's anxiety sky-rocketed at this news. "What does he mean you quit the military?"

Edward had his back to his younger brother, facing Winry, when he mouthed 'Not right now. I'll explain later'.

"Sorry, brother," said Al, backing up slowly, his head down. "I-I shouldn't have brought th-that up."

"Al, Al, calm down. It's okay. I'm not upset, see?" Ed said, making sure to keep his tone light. He was a little perturbed that Al had said it so freely but he wasn't upset with him.

_He's not upset because he's worried that you're upset with him, stupid, _chided an inner voice of Ed's_. He's upset because of what's associated with you quitting the military. Mustang. The molestation. All that._

Edward put his hands on Al's shoulders and tried to look him in the face. On purpose Al was avoiding making eye contact. His shame at the chain of events made him unable to look his brother in the eye. It saddened Ed immensely that Al was carrying this burden of guilt around with him when it absolutely and unequivocally was not his fault. Al's shoulders began to shake slightly and Ed seriously worried he was going to have a panic attack. Unsure what to do, he looked at Winry for help.

"Al, stay with me," said Winry, prying a hand away from his face and holding it in hers. "I don't know why you're upset, I wish I did, so why don't you tell me?"

Al shook his head slowly. "N-N-No. I-I can't."

"Why not?" She asked, an innocent tone in her voice.

"Be-Because . . . " Then he muttered something under his breath. "I-I'll be o-okay you guys."

"You don't seem okay though," said Winry. "Tell you what. Why don't you help me out at the grocery store and cook dinner, and then we'll all talk when you're more comfortable, 'k?"

"O-okay," said Al, still sounding unsure.

_Thank goodness for Winry_. _She's a real lifesaver_, thought Edward as his best friend guided Al to the table where she sat him down and allowed him the time to calm. Then she got a notepad and started a list of the food they needed, occasionally asking Al to chime in so he wouldn't be left alone with his emotions. Edward was simply amazed at her work. She'd accomplished much more than he had in the past few days. Whenever Al had a panic attack he had tried to talk him through it. He never thought of letting him cool off on his own.

_I've been an idiot,_ thought Ed.

"Hellooo? Amestris to Edward?" said Winry, waving a hand in front of his face.

Ed blinked and took a startled step backwards. "I'm here, I'm here. Um, what was it . . . ?"

"We're going to the store. That is, if you want to drive us. We could walk if you want to take a nap or something. It's perfectly fine with me."

Edward couldn't stand the thought of Al wandering the streets without him, especially with Mustang walking around a free man. Even if Winry was there, there was little she could do against a large man like Roy.

"Let's get going then."

IIIII

"Whoo! I'm exhausted!"

"You barely carried anything! Al and I did all of the work!" complained Edward, setting down four large bags of food.

"Well it's exhausting work watching you two work your butts off. Aren't you tired, Al? It is getting late," observed Winry.

"I am a little sleepy," he admitted, setting down his own bags. "I'll take a bath before I go to bed, though."

"Good, good. I'll make dinner while you're doing that and then it's off to bed with you."

"But Winry--"

"No but's Al. Young men need their sleep and you're no different."

Alphonse trudged off towards his bath. Meanwhile, Winry took time assembling the dinner they would be eating. Edward sat at the table, watching her work. He silently thanked Winry for doing what she's done all day -- keep Al and him in check. Ed had been about to lose his head over all of this drama, and she had come in and saved the day. Every moment was looking brighter and brighter because of her prescence.

And now he had to ruin it all by telling her the truth.

"Winry, you deserve an explanation--"

"I can wait until he goes to bed," said Winry, stirring the slow-brewing stew.

"Well I can't," said Edward. "It's . . . it's too overwhelming, Winry."

"Ed?" Worry seeped into her tone.

"You have to promise not to freak out on me first, though I'll understand if you do because I couldn't contain myself either." Edward couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with her. He took a couple of deep breaths to calm down then added, "You, of course, remember Mustang."

Winry's heartbeat quickened at the mention of the man who had killed her parents. "What happened?"

"He . . . he did something unforgiveable . . . to Al. The bastard's been molesting him for I don't know how long--"

"_What_?" shrilled Winry. The ladle she was stirring with fell into the pot, forgotten about. Tears sprang to her eyes and she said, "That's impossible! He seemed fine! I-I-I-Oh, Ed, that's . . . " She covered her face in her hands. "Why didn't he say anything? Did he say something to you, is that how you found out?"

"Hawkeye found Mustang . . . I won't even say what he was making Al do, but--" Edward gripped his pants tightly in a failing attempt to keep his cool, "She found them doing something and then she called the police. I was about to head off to Megeor when Armstrong got me off of the train. We went to Mustang's house where I had entrusted Al to that _monster_."

"Mustang is in jail, isn't he?"

Edward stayed silent. It was better than voicing his thoughts of ripping the older man to shreds.

"Ed, say something to me. Tell me he's in jail." Winry looked out from underneath her fingers to see her friend shake his head. She sobbed then, "Why _not_? He should be locked away for life! That--That sick--! How could he? You trusted him!"

"Winry . . . " Edward absolutely hated seeing her in tears. They were the tears he couldn't summon. He reached out to her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder, then drew her in close, rubbing her back soothingly. "I'm sorry, Winry. You have no idea how sorry I am."

"W-why should you be sorry?"

"I did nothing. I didn't protect him like I should have."

"If you want to play the blame game, then it's my fault too. I came here and I interacted with Al and I didn't do an-anything," she said, breaking down into fresh tears. "If you start blaming yourself then you won't be able to help Al. You need to help him, Ed. We both do."

"That's the thing. He won't admit to anything. He says he and Mustang are friends and that his 'friend would never hurt him'."

"Why would he do that?"

"Maybe he's scared, I don't know. All I can think about is how I wasn't there for him. How alone he must have been, holding that secret . . . " Edward's hands began to shake from the fury he was holding back. "But you're right. We need to help him in any way we can and we're of no use to him in this condition. We need to be stronger."

"I don't know if I can." Winry paused, then added in a deadly whisper, "I just want to go out and kill him."

"So do I but that won't solve anything, unfortunately," said Edward. "We need to get Al to admit to being hurt, first off, so we can get Mustang in jail. Then we need to get him into, I don't know, some sort of counseling? I'd hate to leave him without anyone to talk to and I'm not sure I could handle the details."

"I'll get him to admit it," Winry said bravely. She wiped her tears away and put on a look of absolute resolve.

"But how? I've been trying these last few days and I got nothing out of him. He's turns a deaf ear to anything I say on the subject."

Winry turned the stove off, knowing the stew was now past saving. She sighed, "We're going to have to eat out. I'll pay for it, don't worry. And I'll find out a way. It's just a matter of his gaining his trust."

"I have his trust. I'm his brother," reminded Ed, his tone severe.

"I'm not saying he doesn't trust you. I'm saying that he needs to trust someone else." Winry tapped her chin in thought, trying to think of an example. "Think of it this way, if you were molested, would you want Al knowing?"

"No!" Was his immediate answer.

"That's why Al hasn't told you yet. There's your answer."

"But that doesn't make any sense! I'm the older brother, I bear the responsibility! He's supposed to come to me with these things," growled Ed, throwing his arms up in disbelief. "What kind of backwards nonsense is this?"

"It's not supposed to make sense. None of this makes sense. I can't imagine Mustang as a child molester, can you?"

"I always thought he was a pervert, for women I mean, but I had no idea . . . for little _boys _. . . _bastard_. "

"Ed, none of us saw this coming. It's not your fault. Please, don't blame yourself, because if you do I'll be forced to smack some sense into you." She smiled a sad smile, hoping he'd follow suit, but he could only manage a slight smirk.

"I should have known from the constant nightmares that there was something seriously wrong. But he said it was memories of mom dying and I bought it."

Winry remained silent. She knew that no matter how many times she said "it's not your fault" Ed would spin it around and somehow make it his sin to carry. He'd been doing that since he and Alphonse were ten and eleven, when their mother died. It's always been his fault, time and time again.

Edward even went into explanation of what happened the other day, watching as she went from intrigued to shocked as he told the story of how Al was in Mustang's care once again even under Havoc's watch. It wasn't really Havoc's fault, since he hadn't heard the horror story.

"I wish I knew what he had said to him. He told Al to 'remember what they talked about' but I haven't gotten a word out of him since."

"We'll know, in time," said Winry. "Just be patient. We aren't going to get this out of him in a day. Think of the pain he must be going through and how embarrassed he feels. It's not something that's easy to admit to."

"I know, I know," said Edward.

"Brother! Can you hear me? There's no clean towels in here and I'm dripping wet!"

"I'm busy! I'll send Winry!"

Edward snickered at the little shriek of a "No, brother, don't do that!" Al let out.

"You shouldn't mess with him like that," droned Winry. "Poor kid'll have a heart attack."

Edward got up and went to take care of the situation while Winry went to her room to gather herself for a night out to eat.

_We'll make it through this,_ thought Winry boldly. _We will, because I'm afraid of what will happen if we don't._

IIIII

**Maybe you like it, maybe you don't. I'll never know unless you review. I kinda like it but then again I find it to be . . . I don't know. It's one in the morning and I'm tired. But I'm writing to the soothing singing of our dear Vic Mignogna so I'm content.**

**Now review, my friends!**


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter Four: Stop_

IIIII

_So many people suffer abuse, and suffer alone - Pamela Stephenson_

IIIII

There was a scream.

_Al!_ immediately thought Edward.

The scream was all it took for Edward to jump out of bed and run down the hall. He barely made it a foot before knocking into Winry, who had stumbled out of her room, still drowsy, and the two of them made their way towards Alphonse's room together. Winry had Ed's hand in hers, just for a friend's comfort, which she desperately needed at the moment. It was her first time dealing with Al having a nightmare and she was very nervous about it.

"Calm down," whispered Edward before they entered Al's room. "You're no good to him being so upset, remember?"

Winry appreciated his bluntness. It knocked her into place. She nodded, a look of conviction on her face.

"Wait. Maybe you should let me handle this. He may freak out if you go in there with me."

"No way. I'm going in," hissed Winry. "He needs _both _of us."

Edward shurgged and opened the door. The light in the hallway shed light on the scene inside. Alphonse was hugging his knees, backed up against the headboard, his head buried between his knees. He was slightly rocking back and forth. Edward slowly made his way towards his younger brother and kneeled next to the bed, trying to see if he could look him in the eyes.

"Al? Are you in there?"

"B-B-Brother," sobbed Al. "It w-was so sc-scary."

"What was?"

He hesitated and said, "I-I don't want to talk about it."

Edward sighed. This again. "If you don't talk about it, there's nothing we can do to help you."

"I'm s-sorry I scr-screamed. I-I didn't mean to-to wake you," apologized Alphonse sullenly.

Winry went to the other side of the bed and knelt down. She smiled up at her younger friend and asked, "Al, you know we would never doubt you, right?"

"What do you m-mean?"

"Like if you told us something. Sometimes kids get afraid that adults won't believe what they're saying, or someone might have said that another adult wouldn't believe what you told them, especially if they're afraid what you have to say will get them into trouble. Do you get what I'm saying?"

Edward did. She meant if Mustang threatened Al that no one would believe him . . . she was telling him that they would believe him, even if Mustang said the opposite.

Al remained silent. It was the best weapon in his arsenal. If he stayed silent, he didn't have to defend himself or Mustang. Yes, it was definitely the smart thing to do if he wanted them to leave him alone. Except, he didn't realize they were going to give up that easily.

"I think you understand all too well what I'm saying," said Winry. "You can't run from this forever, you know. Someday you'll have to face what happened."

"What did you tell her?" There was an accusatory tone in Al's tone, directed at his older brother.

"The truth," he said simply.

"The truth is that nothing happened. I-I just . . . it was all a misunderstanding," mumbled Al uncomfortably.

"What was Mustang talking to you about the other day?" asked Edward once again. Maybe, with Winry on his side, he would get a different result. "You could start by telling us that. If it was nothing bad, you wouldn't have any trouble telling us what he said."

"It was nothing. We just talked about what happened, and how unfair it was . . . " Al's sentence strayed off.

"It isn't unfair if something bad happened to you and he was caught," said Winry. "I don't think this was blown out of proportion. Mrs. Hawkeye wouldn't lie. I know her and I know she wouldn't lie about something so important."

"I don't know what's going on or why, okay? I don't know!" Al suddenly burst out, frustrated with the situation. He buried his face in his hands and muttered, "Just go away."

It hurt Edward so very badly to see his younger brother in such emotional agony. If he could take even half of his burden, he'd do it without a second thought. Of course there was no way he would leave his brother's side even if Alphonse begged him to go. Al may not realize it but Ed is in it for the long run, through the good times and the bad.

"I'm not going away for anything. I'm staying right here until you feel safe again," said Edward.

"I'll be fine by myself."

"Al, you know that's not true," Winry said sadly. "Why are you pushing us away? We're here to help you."

"I know," acknowledged Al. "But I'm scared."

"Scared of _what_ though?" asked Ed and Winry in unison.

All they got in return was silence. Then:

"Can we go to the park tomorrow, brother? I want to feed the birds again. That was fun."

Edward stood up and put a comforting hand on Al's head. "Anything you want, kiddo."

"I know, lets make it a picnic!" Winry chimed in enthusiastically. "We'll make sandwiches and have a real spread!"

"That's a good idea," said Ed, fondly looking at his friend. He sat down next to Al and played with the hem of his nightshirt absent-mindedly. "How does it sound to you, Al?"

"Sounds great," he mumbled without much spirit. His mind seemed to be somewhere else, his eyes glazed over.

"Al? Are you sure you're okay?" Winry inquired worriedly.

"Um, yeah, just . . . I'm fine," said Al in a rush. "Really, don't worry. Just thinking, is all."

"Thinking can be bad for you sometimes," said Edward. "Do you want to sleep with me tonight?"

"Um . . . if you don't mind."

Edward put an arm around Al's shoulders and said, "Of course not. Except when you kick me, then I mind, but what's a few bumps and bruises compared to the fun of hearing you say Winry's name in your sleep?"

"Brother, I do not! Winry, don't listen to him."

"How would you know? You're sleeping," laughed Edward.

"Shutup!"

IIIII

"This is exactly what we needed," said Winry, putting a hand above her eyes to block out the sun. The wind whipped her long hair around as it was in a loose ponytail. "It's a nice, fresh day out. The sun is shining and we're in the park. It makes everything seem magical, doesn't it?"

"It's just a park, Winry," drawled Edward. He wasn't much of a morning person and Al had dragged him out of bed specifically to go to the park.

"Show some enthusiasm, Edward," argued Winry lowly.

"It's _seven _in the morning. What are we doing having a picnic at _seven _in the morning?" Edward demanded to know. "You usually have a picnic in the afternoon, if you guys aren't aware of that."

"You said whatever I wanted, brother," reminded Alphonse.

"Well I didn't mean to cover _that _broad of a category."

The three of them wandered the area looking for the best spot to set up their breakfast. Winry had made egg salad sandwiches, and they had a container of orange juice. Edward didn't think the two would compliment eachother well, but once he dug into the food and took a sip of orange juice he found it to be quite satisfying. While Winry and Ed ate, Alphonse took the loaf of bread they brought and started to feed the birds.

When Al was out of hearing range, Edward said, "I have more proof that something happened."

"What?" Winry asked concernedly

"You know how Al talks in his sleep?" said Ed. "Well, I heard him talking last night and he said some things that I really didn't want to hear."

"What did he say?"

"There was a lot of . . . 'No, stop', and I heard him say 'Stop, that hurts' a couple of times," said Ed, his anger bubbling to the surface. He clenched his fists. "I can't bear the thought of Al _begging _for Mustang to stop."

Winry set down her sandwich and put a hand on Ed's shoulder. "Ed, I'm sorry. I wish I could fix this. But we will have to bear with it and--"

"But why Al, Winry? Answer me that," he gritted out. "Why Al? He's such a sweet kid. He never did anything to deserve to be hurt like that."

"I don't know, Ed, I really don't know. Of course he did nothing to deserve it. No child ever does."

"I'm not sure what to do anymore," said Ed. "I'm getting at the end of my ropes. This is all too much. If I could just get him to admit to it then things would smooth over and we could get him some help but he denies and denies."

"Denial is the most basic form of self-protection. He's trying to pretend that nothing ever happened," explained Winry. "It'll catch up to him sooner rather than later."

"I don't want that to happen. I want him to admit to it in a healthy environment, not when he's most depressed."

"I think he's going to be depressed either way," Winry thought aloud. "There's no way around that."

"I want to take his hell away from him," whispered Edward.

"You can and you will. Soon Al will come to you with this and everything will turn out all right. You just have to stick it out until then," said Winry comfortingly. She reached over and hugged her best friend briefly. He blushed, then awkwardly patted her on the back in return. She looked over at where Al was letting a bird eat a bread crumb from his hand and added, "Mustang will get his eventually, too. Things will come around full circle and when they do, we'll be there to throw it in his face."

"I'm worried he's scared Al into silence forever," voiced Edward. "But Al should know that I'd kill the bastard before I'd let Mustang hurt him again."

There was a pregnant silence where Edward seemed to be mulling over saying something very important. Then he asked, "Winry . . . do you think he still trusts me? He hasn't come to me with it, and I basically betrayed him by not protecting him from Mustang. Al must be so furious with me for not coming to his rescue."

"He's very intelligent, Ed. He must know that you didn't realize the abuse was occuring. Everybody knows Al is your world and that you would do anything for him. If you knew what Mustang was doing to him, you would have immediately stepped in and beat him to a bloody pulp."

Edward finished his egg salad sandwich in silence. It was true, what Winry was saying, but for some reason it was hard to accept that it wasn't his fault. Maybe it was because he needed someone to blame for this and he himself was the easiest target. Of course, there was Mustang to blame, but Edward felt he was also to blame. If only he had known, if only . . . there were a lot of 'if onlys' he could throw around, but none of them were going to make the situation any better. If he wanted to wallow in his own pity he would have to do it after he got Alphonse better. He was determined to do something about it and if he was going to play the blame game, it would be on his own time, not on the time he was using to get Alphonse healthy again.

IIIII

_No! No!_

Alphonse was bent over the toilet, throwing up his supper. He didn't want his brother to hear him puking so he had the shower running, to drown out the sound of his retching. Tears mixed in the toilet bowel with the vomit.

_Mr. Mustang is my friend. He wouldn't hurt me. They were just games. Little games between friends. But . . . sometimes they hurt, and you don't hurt your friends, do you?_

Alphonse was so conflicted. On one hand, he knows adults are supposed to be trusted. And he completely trusted Roy. Had his trust been misplaced? Those things they did all of the time, were they really that wrong? Brother seemed to think so, and so did Winry. Al didn't really like it either, no matter how his body reacted. He often asked Mustang to stop, or if they could take a small break, but Mustang would either hit him for his insolence (this was when he was drunk, usually), or call him degrading names for not being able to play the games correctly.

Al was a people pleaser. He didn't like having people mad at him, so Mustang was easily able to emotionally blackmail the young boy into doing what he wanted him to do.

Only one thing crossed his mind throughout the abuse:

_Brother can't know. If he did, he'd hate me._

There's nothing like the cruelty of telling a child their older sibling will hate them if they reveal a secret. Mustang said Al was gay, which Al disputed for a very long time, and that if Edward knew he would be disgusted with him.

Al laid down on the cool bathroom floor and let the tears slide down his red cheeks. No, there's no way he could ever let his brother know the inner turmoil churning his stomach.

IIIII

**I apologize for the shortness, but writers block has it's death grip around my throat. Throwing this out was hard enough, but nine pages of this drivel? Couldn't do it.**

**And if you're wondering why Al was throwing up, it's because severe stress can cause someone to do so.**

**Anyone who reads this and reads Body Breakdown, I'm not going to be able to update Body Breakdown for atleast another week due to circumstances I can't control. Sorry about that. Don't shoot me!**

**REVIEWS ARE SUPERSPECIALAWESOME.**


	5. Chapter 5

**First of I want to say how sorry I am that I've been away for so long. I could make up excuse after excuse but I won't. All I'm going to say is this: I'm back! Hopefully for good, this time.**

**Second of all I want to thank the people who kept reviewing even though they thought this story was dead. Thanks a lot, guys. I mean it. Such response and praise makes me happy! And I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint too much. Remember: Reviews equal love!**

IIIII

_Chapter Five: Cry_

IIIII

_Hello darkness, my old friend,_

_I've come to talk to you again_

_- The Sound of Silence, Simon and Garfunkel -_

IIIII

The twelve year old was overwhelmed. He couldn't . . . he couldn't take this. This terror, the unadulterated agony, wave after wave of emotion hit him and it is as though he can no longer breathe. He didn't want to breathe. Because he's pretty sure Mustang will hear him and then . . . and then . . .

_God, brother, help me._

Alphonse knows logically Mustang isn't here. Mustang is somewhere else, somewhere where he can't hurt him anymore. But emotionally he is haywire. Isn't this called a flashback or something? Where he feels the same emotions he did as when he was being hurt? Alphonse can recall all too clearly what it felt like. How much he wanted to cry, how much he wanted to scream, but was unable to do so under the threat of being physically harmed. How much stress can one tiny body endure before it breaks? How much did Mustang expect Alphonse to go through before he snaps completely?

A few tears leaked out of his eyes and hit his pillow. He propped himself up on his bed with his elbows and surveyed the room to double check that no one was in there with him.

Mustang isn't here, he kept repeating. He isn't here.

Al wanted to go to his brother for reassurance but how can he spew more lies to the one person he trusts most? How can he continue to say 'I'm fine' when he's the opposite? The most infuriating thing is that Al was so close to telling both Winry and Edward what had happened when they had burst into his room the other night after he screamed. But what had stopped him?

His promise. He had made a promise to Roy Mustang that he would never reveal to anyone what they had done. Alphonse wished he could take it back but he's supposed to keep it a secret. Otherwise, people will know how bad, how dirty, how wrong he was for doing those things. But it wasn't as though he had any choice, right? He had to. If only people knew what things Roy had said to him to get him commit those atrocious acts.

_Brother would be so ashamed of me_, he thought in the pitch blackness of his room. _Winry would hate me. I can't disappoint them. If I tell them they would disown me, just as Mr. Mustang says they would._

_Only Roy loves me. He said he would take care of me. He said his home is always open for me._

_What do I do?_

Inside the darkest niches of Alphonse's mind, he pondered if he should return to Roy. If he should return to the only one who truly understands his depravity.

IIIII

Edward woke up that morning with a yawn and a stretch. He wasn't sure if he should even get up this early - for goodness sakes, it's only 8:30 - but he's used to getting up this early for work so why the hell not?

He doesn't care to slip on a T-shirt because Winry has already seen him in only his boxers. She won't mind seeing him half naked for the hundredth time. Edward smiled because he knows Winry is here and is going to make this whole process easier. He wanted to talk to her about a new way to approach this ordeal but he wasn't too sure on how to bring it up. After all, Al was always around, so how are they to discuss it in private?

Edward walked down the hallway and combed his fingers through his hair to get out any knots that may have settled in during the night. This is when he sees Alphonse standing at the doorway, clutching a piece of paper in his hand and looking at it intently. It was as though he intended to head out the door.

"What're you doing there, Al?" asked Edward in a confused tone.

He could have sworn he heard him squeak at getting caught. Alphonse turned around, a small bundle of nerves, and replied, "I was, um, wasn't doing anything."

Immediately suspicious Edward walked up to him and plucked the piece of paper out of his hand.

"They're directions . . . "

"Give that back!" Al tried to rip the paper out of his brothers hands but Edward took a step back ever time he did. "Brother, please. I don't want to fight about this."

"Why would we fight? Where does this lead? And why _in the hell _would you go out alone at eight thirty in the morning?"

Al mumbled something under his breath, obviously not comfortable with saying it aloud.

Edward studied the sketches more carefully and after a moment of deliberation it finally pops into his head where this leads too. And he couldn't have been more surprised if someone had crawled up from underneath the wood floor and slapped him across the back of the head.

_It can't be true_, he thought._ Al wouldn't be this . . . irresponsible. This wreckless. He should know better!_

"Al," Edward's tone left no room for argument or lies, "this leads to Roy Mustang's house, doesn't it?"

Alphonse didn't respond.

"Alphonse. You-! You cannot be serious. That man hurt you-"

"You say he did, I say he didn't!"

"You're confused! You don't know which way is up and which way is down right now!"

"I don't know, brother," Alphonse snapped. "I don't know what to think. I-I'm so confused, you're right. I don't know what is wrong is, what is right. I don't know why things happened the way they did. All I know is what Roy told me and—" He choked on his words, finding them difficult to swallow or say. "He said he loved me."

"Oh, Al . . . "

"He said he cared."

"Al, I'm sorry."

Al shook his head and muttered, "No, I'm sorry. Lets-lets just go eat breakfast."

"No," Edward grinded out, placing a hand on Al's shoulder to keep him rooted to the spot. "First you're going to tell me why you were going to Mustang's place."

The young boy refused to reply at first because dammit, this hurt! This tore at his heart, leaving it raw and bleeding profusely. Al would have given anything to be away from his brother at that moment. To be away from his inquiring gaze, to get away from every single question that was soon to be pouring out of Edward's mouth. He wanted it all to go. Away.

"Al if you don't talk to me I can't help you."

"I wanted to say I'm sorry," Al finally admitted.

"Sorry? What the hell for?"

"For getting him in trouble he didn't deserve."

"Al, listen to me. No, look at me! I want you to hear this," Edward demanded of his younger brother. He stared straight into Alphonse's hazel eyes and said, "You are not at fault here. Whatever happened between you and Mustang was his fault. I don't give a rats ass if he told you otherwise. He is a master manipulator, a pervert, and a liar. You have nothing to be sorry for. Besides, aren't you the one who said he didn't do anything? Why would you apologize if nothing happened?"

"'Cause I still got him in trouble. Brother, please, can we stop talking about this?"

"You have no idea about how much I wish things could go back to normal," Edward said, leading Al to the front room to sit on the couch. He sighed and runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Al sat there without question, his eyes trained upon the floor. Ed kept talking as though there was no pause. "But things never were normal, were they? These past two years have been some big cover up and the wool was pulled over my eyes so I couldn't see a thing. Meanwhile you suffered in silence . . . "

"Do you hate me?"

"Wait, what?"

Alphonse gulped, hating to think of the answer. "Do you hate me?"

"Hate you?" The elder Elric's blood boiled at the thought of Mustang feeding his brother lie after lie after lie. He struggled to keep the ire out of his voice. "Of course not, Al. I could never hate you."

"I don't know what to do," sighed Al. He refused to make eye contact with his older brother. "I just want to go back to bed."

"All I want is for you to tell me the truth," whispered Edward. "What is the truth, Al?"

Alphonse's heart beat sped up.

Could he admit to it? Is the time now? Is every word Roy ever said to him really a lie? Will nothing bad happen if he does tell Ed how Roy hurt him for nearly two years? All Al had wanted to do was go to Roy's and apologize but if what Ed said is true then he doesn't have a single thing to apologize for. All of these things swell up in Al's head and it feels as though his head is ready to burst—let it all out—not my fault—tell him tell him tell him tell him tell him tell him—

But all Alphonse can do is cry.

Fat tears rolled down his cheeks and he can't get out a single word. He isn't ready. He couldn't admit to the shame, the guilt, the fear. It's was still too much for his vocabulary to vocalize the pain he went through.

So, instead, he cried, and Edward held him in his arms. Protective arms where nothing will get through, where Roy will never cross.

Edward isn't sure how long he stayed like that. He didn't dare remove his head from its place, buried inside of Al's soft hair. He contemplated how much he wants to hurt Roy Mustang. How much he wishes him dead. How much he wants to hurt, destroy, rip, tear, and mutilate.

But he pushed it all aside for Al. He would do it time and time again for Al. Revenge isn't never worth it if it takes you away from the things which urgently need your attention. And right then there was a broken boy sobbing in his arms whom he never would let go. It broke Edwards heart to hear these gut-wrenching sobs being torn from his younger brother's body but he wasn't about to interrupt them. If this was what Al needed to do to heal then he will gladly sit through every crying jag and be happy to do so.

Eventually time passed and Edward could hear beyond Al's tiny sniffles. Winry apparently woke up and was making breakfast. He'd heard the sizzle of bacon and smelled the gentle aroma of eggs. The thought of eggs on buttered toast sliding down his gullet made his stomach growl but it went unnoticed. Atleast Winry had enough sense to leave them alone. Either she had seen them having their moment and decided it's best to let them work it out by themselves or she'd guessed whats going on and was kind enough to leave them alone.

Edward pulled his face out of Al's hair and said, "You hungry?"

"I-I'm sorry."

"Oh please. Everyone has to have a good cry every now and again."

"Even you?" Al sounded amused at the notion of his brother crying for any length of time.

"There's always exceptions to the rule."

Al wiped at his eyes and chuckled. "Everyone cries, brother. I wouldn't think less of you." He paused and asked softly, "Did you cry after mom died? I . . . I don't remember. My memories are still fuzzy around that time."

Edward's throat threatened to tighten but he pushed past his discomfort to reply, "Yeah, Al. I did."

"You won't tell Winry I cried, right?"

"Of course not. This'll remain between us."

This put a smile on his face and he suddenly exclaimed, jumping off the couch, "I smell bacon!" Then Al rushed towards the kitchen.

Edward found himself smiling too.

He stared down at the directions crumpled up in his hands. He'll burn them as soon as he gets a moment of peace. But he can't help but wonder how he got these directions. As far as Ed knows they don't have any directions to Roy's home laying about the house. Did he call Mustang?

_I'll have to monitor him more carefully_, he thought as he got up off the couch. _If he's wanting to apologize to Mustang . . . I'll be damned if I let that happen. Over my dead body._

IIIII

Alphonse was specifically ordered to take a bath not because of any odor, but because Edward wanted a moment with Winry. He had burnt the piece of paper already in the fireplace. When he made sure Al was in the bathroom and not overhearing anything he shouldn't Edward sat down and recounted this mornings events. Winry took it all in stride, although gasping when he revealed Al wanted to apologize to the bastard.

"I don't know what to do Winry. How do I convince him not to go back to Mustang? I'm afraid now that if I turn my back on him for one second he'll slip through the cracks and go running to him," Edward sighed. He laid down on his bed while Winry sat at the end of the bed, creating a dip.

Winry mulled over it for a second before uttering, "I know he's old enough to know better but I don't think he was ever given the 'good touch, bad touch' routine, was he?"

Edward furrowed his eyebrows. "Um, no, I don't think so. Mom told me but I don' t know if she ever told Al. She had only told me a little while before she passed away."

"I was told when I was seven. It's severely uncomfortable for everyone involved but it has to be done. He may honestly not know the difference. Mustang screwed it all up for him and he has no frame of reference except abuse meaning kindness and affection. We have to teach him differently."

"He told me that Mustang said that he 'loved him' and 'cared for him'. I—" Edward cut off his own words, too disgusted by the thought of Mustang disfiguring love to suit his interests. He finally added, "I suppose you could be right. But what am I supposed to say, Winry? He's twelve. He should know this."

"You're not thinking under the frame of mind he is. He's been abused, Ed. Anything . . . sexual, well, it's been misconstrued into something awful, something embarrassing, and associates that with love on top of all that. Al might not know that you're not supposed to be forced to do these things."

Edward quirked an eyebrow. "How do you know so much about this?"

"I may have went to the local library last night and looked up a few things in some books. I suggest that you do it too. You might understand it better. Besides, you love doing research."

"I probably should," He muttered as he sat up. He looked at Winry, who smiled at him encouragingly. "What else did you learn?"

"That Al should get counseling. Talking to us won't be enough. He needs a professional to figure out and work on whats going on in his head. Plus talking to a third party can be much more comforting then someone you know."

Edward tried not to take this as a jab at his and Al's connection. He likes to think that Al can come to him with anything. After all, they've relied on eachother for years (even the years Al can't remember). But, apparently, it didn't work when it counted.

Edward doesn't know how to approach Al with the subject so Winry says she'll start the conversation. They talked about miniscule things for a little while until Alphonse came out of the bathroom soaking wet, his hair clinging to his face and droplets of water running down his chin. He has a fresh pair of pants on a crisp button up shirt.

"So what are we gonna do today?" asked Al enthusiastically. "I heard they're having a fair tomorrow on the edge of Central, not far from here, and are setting up booths in advance."

"We, um, need to have a talk Al. Why don't you take a seat by me?" Winry said, patting the empty spot next to her on the bed. Alphonse immediately stiffens, looking wary, but cautiously takes his place next to his female friend with great trepidation. She slinged an arm around his shoulders and said, "So, Al, does this make you uncomfortable?"

"Um, a little. Why?"

Winry's voice took on an authoratative tone as she said, "I don't know if you know this but Al, there's a difference between touches that you should know about. Well, this is a good type of touch. I'm not hurting you and I'm not touching any part of you that I shouldn't be."

Alphonse's cheeks brightened. "I know the difference between what is okay to touch and what isn't, Winry."

Winry removed her arm and nodded. "Okay. That's good. Tell me about it."

"Well Mom always said that girls, you know, um, between . . . their legs. You shouldn't touch them there. And girls shouldn't touch you there in return. Um, can I leave now?"

"We're not done," Winry replied. "So that's it? That's all she said? Did she ever say about . . . boys touching boys?"

Al shook his head and his face became tomato red. Even Edward was beginning to redden a considerable amount. "She never said anything about boys touching boys. I mean, theres nothing wrong with that, right?" He seemed desperate in his attempt to try and coax her to say there's nothing wrong with it.

"Al, there isn't, when it is _consensual_. This is what I'm trying to get at. No one, whether it be female or male, child or adult, has any right to touch you anywhere on your body where you don't want them to. And the same goes for _making _you touch _them_. It's wrong. When this happens you have to tell someone so it doesn't happen to anyone else. People who touch people without permission are dangerous to others. Do you get what I'm saying?"

"I . . . I guess."

Winry paused, as though gauging his reaction, and barged on with her lecture. "You're young, Al. Only twelve. I know you're tough and you could beat anyone who dared to hurt you like that but sometimes we trust people who get the best of us. They trick us into believing we want it, or that we deserved it somehow."

_I hope this is hitting somewhere in the vicinity because I'm running out of ideas_, Winry thought as she watched Al struggle with something deep within. _Hopefully this is getting through to him. It looks as though it is._

Edward didn't want to leave Winry hanging so he said, "It's called assault, Al. If someone touches you, especially if its an adult, in the wrong way, you need to say something."

There's ringing in Al's ears as all of this information stirs. He doesn't want to cry in front of Winry of all people. He's already cried in front of his brother once today. So why won't the tears stay behind his eyes? Why are they threatening to spill over? His fists are balled up on his thighs as things said to him by Mustang jump to the forefront of his mind.

_"It's going to be alright, Al. Just trust me."_

_"Oh you feel so . . . _good_."_

_"I care for you deeply. Don't you care for me too? Don't you want to do something nice for me?"_

_"You can never do anything right! God! You're such an amateur! You've been doing this for, what, six months now? You should know how to suck—"_

Alphonse felt bile rise in his throat and he ran towards the bathroom and found himself hunched over the toilet throwing up his breakfast. Bacon, eggs, and toast somewhat digested pour out into the toilet until nothing is left and he is dry heaving, trying to empty out stomach acid into the porcelain bowl. He barely registered the soothing hand on his back belonging to Winry. Edward stood there too, a grieving, sad look in his golden eyes.

_He can't take much more of this_, thought Ed, leaning against the sink for support. _I don't think any of us can._

IIIII

**I would like for anyone who wishes to review to do so now! Tell me what you think. I'll nervously be awaiting your responses. I may not be up to par right now - I'm getting back into the groove of FMA - so it may take a couple of chapters for me to get back into the flow. Sorry!**


	6. Chapter 6

IIIII

_Chapter Six: Departing_

IIIII

_"Everything looked and sounded unreal. Nothing was what it is. That's what I wanted—to be alone with myself in another world where truth is untrue and life can hide from itself."_

_- From _A Long Day's Journey Into Night_, by Eugene O'Neill -_

IIIII

It'd been two weeks now. Two weeks of asking the same questions over and over again. Two weeks of Roy Mustang still being on the streets despite the danger he posed to society. As far as Hawkeye told him (she had stopped around the fifteenth day) he had went on as though nothing occured. Hadn't brought it up to her at any time, not once. Whether it was because he's so arrogant or because he's embarrassed she wasn't so sure.

"I can't read him like I used to," Hawkweye admitted, gripping her coffee cup tightly. "It's infuriating. It's like he's a whole other person."

"Maybe that person was hiding somewhere deep inside and finally has surfaced," suggested Winry solemnly.

Hawkeye's gaze lowered. "As much as I hate to admit it, you're probably right."

Edward still remembers how sad she looked that day. As though her whole world was torn apart. After what she witnessed, Edward wouldn't have blamed her if she'd had a nervous breakdown. Edward didn't like to see such a look on her face but he couldn't do anything to make it better. Saying it will all be okay in the end is unrealisitic and foolish to assume. Ed doesn't know any more than the next person how tomorrow will turn out. But he'll be damned if he drowns in his own sorrows or lets Al suffocate on his misery.

Pushing forward. Its the only thing left to do.

When the third week came around, though, Winry dropped a bombshell.

"Ed . . . I'm not going to be able to neglect my work for very much longer. I haven't told grams anything, just that its an emergency, and she keeps calling telling me that she's overwhelmed. I have to go back soon."

Edward tried not to show his disappointment clear on his face. He kept it nestled inside where it'll later blossom into something ugly and distorted.

"I'll come back as soon as possible," She had quickly clipped on. She knew how much her presence meant to him even if he never verbalized it. "Maybe a few days."

So when Winry did leave, the day after her announcement, and Alphonse was also sad to see her go. He even initiated the hug which was odd for him. He wasn't much of a touchy person these days. It seemed that with each passing day he became more withdrawn, not wanting to touch or be touched, and some days he would have all the personality of a rock. So Edward was happy to see him hug Winry when before she boarded the train.

"I'll be back," she promised.

"I hope so," responded Al, letting her go and standing beside his brother. "I don't know if I can go back to brother's cooking after yours."

"The food I make isn't _that _bad," grumbled Ed, crossing his arms. Winry and Al laughed at this.

IIIII

Edward knew he had to search for a job. So far his side job of fixing objects with alchemy, which he's always had just to make extra money, has been keeping them afloat. Usually someone will come over with a destroyed object - maybe a family heirloom or a precious vase - and ask him to fix it. It's as simple as drawing a transmutation circle and everything is back to normal.

_If only alchemy could fix my problems_, he often thought when in an awful mood.

But the truth was the side jobs weren't going to keep them afloat forever. Edward, as much as he hated to admit it, had to find a job. This also meant he had to leave behind Al which he is loath to do. Sure, he's twelve, but then again, he's _twelve_. No one in their right mind leaves a twelve year old alone for a better part of the day. Besides, this a twelve year old who is eager to go see someone who he shouldn't. Well, Edward shouldn't say 'eager', but he wants to still see him to apologize for something he shouldn't. No matter how many times Edward has told him he has nothing to apologize for Al insists he does.

Edward considered getting Al a babysitter but after Roy he doesn't trust anyone with Al. After all, if someone he trusted for years upon years decided to hurt him, how does he know how someone he's never met will treat him? And Edward doesn't trust Al not to tell someone if anything is attempted.

He's half-crazed over these decisions.

Atleast he can take Alphonse with him when as he goes job-hunting. So after Winry left Edward started driving around Central, gathering a few job applications. Alphonse offered to get a job himself but Edward only smiled at him and told him that he should enjoy being a kid for a little while longer.

"I don't want to be all alone at home though," confessed Al, squirming uncomfortably in his seat.

"I don't want you to be either but I do have to get a job. Hopefully I can get that one at the bakery."

"You? Baking?" Al sounded outright shocked.

"I wouldn't be baking. I wouldn't endanger people like that," chuckled Ed. "I'd be at the register. As far as I can tell it's the best paying one I can get. Being the librarian's assisant part-time could work, too."

Al's eyes widened and he smiled. "I wanna be the librarians assistant!"

"Sorry Al but I'm not letting you work. Besides, ever hear of the law against child labor? Amestris doesn't let you work legally until you're fifteen."

"Oh. Three more years, then!"

Amused, Ed replied, "I'll tell them to keep the job open for you."

IIIII

Edward took more time than necessary to turn in his resumes. He tried to tell himself that their emergency funds were intended for this: an emergency. But Edward also knew that this emergency was going to take a while to relieve itself, and their funds weren't going to last _that _long. So, with no other options, he handed in all four of them, intending to take whichever jobs responded to him first.

That day he took Alphonse once again to the park to feed the birds. Sometimes Edward wondered if he should just give up and buy the kid a pet but the last thing they need is a needy little ball of fur running about the house demanding to be watered and fed. He hadn't a doubt Al would take care of it, it's just the matter of buying the food and a litter box and litter. . . . He just wants to make Alphonse as happy as possible. These days, it seems to be getting harder and harder to do.

After they got home Edward let Al play in his room alone while he made a few phone calls. They were to the surrounding psychiatrists in the area. There were a few on his list, ones that he'd looked up in the phone book: Dr. Mallord, Dr. Shienz, Dr. Transinski, and Dr. Fowler. When he got to Dr. Transinski he recieved what he said was the lowest price he could recieve in the area: only 35 a session. It wasn't bad considering Dr. Mallord charged over seventy. So he decided not to even check with Dr. Fowler and went with this one, talking to Dr. Transinski himself.

"What may I do for you today?" Dr. Transinski asked politely.

"Hi, um, my name is Edward Elric and I'm looking for someone to treat my brother."

"Alright. Are you his legal guardian?"

"Yes."

"How old is your brother?"

"Twelve."

"Hmmm, okay. And what seems to be the problem?"

Edward chewed on his bottom lip nervously and said, "Well . . . he was abused. . . . "

"I'm sorry to hear that," Dr. Transinski said, sounding geniunely sorry. "For how long was he abused and in what manner?"

"That's the thing, I'm not sure. I know he was abused . . . sexually . . . but I don't know for how long. He won't tell me anything. I was hoping that if he talked to someone from the outside, a professional . . . " Edward hoped to hell this guy didn't reject him on the count of Alphonse not admitting to the abuse. He didn't think a psychiatrist would want to waste his precious time talking to a child who refused to give any information.

"Most children who are abused sexually for a long period of time often feel loyal to their abuser. They don't want to feel this way but they think they love their abuser and don't want to say anything about them, either because they were physically threatened—" (At this Edward mentally cursed Mustang, hoping this isn't the case) "—or for various other reasons. I'm interested in talking to your brother, Mr. Elric. What is his name?"

"Alphonse."

"If I may be so bold, may I ask where your parents are? You don't sound too old."

"I'm nineteen," said Ed defensively, a little offended. "And my parents are deceased."

"Sounds like you both have had tragedies in your young lives. I'll be more than happy to treat Alphonse, and you too, if you wish."

Edward blinked and was silent for a moment. Confusion sprung over him. Why in the hell would he need a psychiatrist?

"Why would I need to see you?"

"To deal with your anger. I'm sure you're furious with whoever hurt your brother and you might want to consider counseling because the loss of both parents is severely traumatic as well. I'm only suggesting, though, if you want to. You may be financially unable right now and I would work it out with you if need be so you could have sessions, but it's up to you Mr. Elric."

Edward never thought of getting counseling for himself at all. Sure, dealing with their mothers death had been nothing less of traumatic, and the loss of their father (he's still not sure if he's dead or not) wasn't much of a big deal to him, but he had to admit it would be good to vent about how he wanted to murder Mustang in a thousand different ways. But something stopped him from saying yes. He doesn't want to discuss his mother - he never does, not if he can help it, and as much as it appealed to him to talk about Mustang he didn't want to do it. Not until Al did. Besides, he's never been one to talk about his emotions. Especially to a stranger.

"I appreciate it but I think I'll pass for now," said Edward. "So, um, when can I schedule an appointment?"

"I have emergency openings for these type of things. It sounds like your brother desperately needs someone to open up to. So why don't I write you in for tomorrow at 1:30 pm?"

"Thanks."

"I'll see you both tomorrow, Mr. Elric. Goodbye." _Click_.

Edward breathed a sigh of relief. Now if he could just get Al to agree to it . . . actually, it didn't matter much if he agreed to it or not. He was going and that was that.

Edward went into Al's room to find him reading an alchemy book as per usual. The younger Elric looked up from his book and smiled. Edward returned it, trying not to show how tense he is, and sat at the edge of the bed.

"Learn anything new?" Ed asked just to strike up conversation.

"I've already read this book five times. I don't think I'm gonna learn anything new," Al responded, setting the book on the nightstand next to his bed. "Brother, is everything okay? You look like you're about to explode."

Edward took in a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. "I'm fine. Just something I wanted to talk to you about. I scheduled an appointment with a psychiatrist tomorrow, Dr. Transinski, and I want you to go."

Alphonse looked shocked for a moment as though Edward spoke in an alien language. Then he curled in on himself - bringing his knees up to his chest and setting his chin on them - and muttered, "I don't know why you'd do that."

"Don't play dumb, Al. You know exactly why I'm doing this and you know you need to go," said Edward. "You can either go willingly or you can go by force."

"You can't _make _me go."

"I'm your guardian. Therefore, I make the decisions about what is good for you or not."

"I don't get a say?" Al sounded as though he'd been stung.

"You can say what you want," Ed said, "but that doesn't mean I'll change my mind."

"There's no reason for me to go," mumbled Al, not meeting his brothers eyes. "I'm fine, brother."

Edward didn't want to have this conversation again but it seemed that Al was still in denial. Even if he had been moping around for the last three weeks he still wanted to say he's 'fine'. It boggles Ed's mind at how much he can deny when it's blatantly obvious to everyone around him.

"We'll see what a trained professional says about that."

"Is-is this some sort of punishment? I mean, I'm trying to be normal . . . "

"Al," sighed Ed. "This is hardly any type of punishment. This is to help you. If you talk to him about whats happened to you it'll make you feel better. Do you understand?"

"I'm not stupid, brother, I know what a psychiatrist is meant for," Al answered with a little bit of bite to his tone. He buried his head in his knees, his arms wrapped around his legs for any tidbit of comfort he could get. "I'm fine. Please don't make me go."

If Edward weren't full of determination to solve his problem then he would have crumbled underneath the weight of his brother's words. But he knew what he had to do; he had to make Al come out of this shell he'd crawled into, where he thinks he's safe, but is only damaging his livelihood and his soul. Edward worked damned hard to get Alphonse back into this body and he did it so he could see Al _smile_. Not to being reduced to looking so pained.

"I'm sorry Al but I have to. You have to go. I've let you slip by for almost a month and nothing good has come of it. You're going to have to admit what happened sooner or later and if you can't do anything but drop hints to me, maybe you can talk to someone else."

Alphonse looked absolutely panicked when he looked up at his brother. He didn't look offended, or even angry, just panicked. As though he's asking with his eyes: _What in the hell do I do now?_

Edward sighed and said, "I think it's for the best. Your appointment is at one thirty."

Al nodded, defeated.

"Don't look so sad, Al. I'm not handing you over to the lions. I'm sure this guy is nice—"

"I don't trust anyone but you and Winry."

"You've got to learn to trust again, I guess." _We both do_, though Edward. He was still wary on trusting someone he didn't know on being alone with Al. But surely a psychiatrist is as safe as it gets? " Tell you what, I'll even sit in with you on your first session, okay? How does that sound? Just to make sure he's an okay guy."

Al brightened up a little at this offer. He nodded enthusiastically.

They sat in silence for a minute or two before Al asked, "Brother, do you think Winry'll be back soon?"

"Of course. You know she can't resist you for long."

"_Brother_!" Al dug his head into his knees in embarrassment. Edward laughed.

IIIII

_Hands everywhere, ghosting over his body._

_Sultry voice telling him things he doesn't want to hear._

_Feelings of hatred, dripping from every pore in his body. Hatred for him, hatred for himself, hatred for everyone who looks on and thinks he's okay._

Alphonse woke up in a cold sweat, gasping for breath with his heart rapidly pumping in his chest. He felt the tears beginning to pool in his eyes so he wiped them away angrily. He didn't want to cry. Ever. And there's no doubt that Dr. Transinski is going to make him cry about several different things. He'll want to know about Roy . . . and Al just can't take it anymore.

To relenquish his feelings of hatred and guilt he bites down on his fist, hard enough to draw little droplets of blood. It momentarily takes the pain away and he feels fine for all but a few seconds. Then, afterwards, he rubbed at the bitemarks on his hand to soothe the aching, burning sensation. Al knew he shouldn't have done that but what else was he supposed to do? If he had let the emotions overrun him something more serious would have happened . . .

He climbed out of bed and over to his brothers room. Edward was sleeping soundly, not even waking when Alphonse opened the door. He let a sliver of light shine through so it could guide his way to the bed. He got into the bed and curled up next to Edward feeling more safe and sound than he had in the past week.

IIIII

**Hopefully this is okay enough to post.**

**I just made a new livejournal about a month ago and if you ever want to drop me a line, look me up under **poodilywoots** on lj. I'm always free to talk about FMA! Also, if it looks like I haven't posted on my journal in a while, don't worry about it I'm still on there. I made my lj solely for the purpose of connecting with others through communities and reviewing stories, not to really post anything of my own.**


	7. Chapter 7

**I apologize for the long update. I planned on getting this up a lot sooner but my poor baby comp came down with some viruses and had to be cleaned out. It took almost two weeks. Oh well. I shoved this one out pretty quickly so I hope you like it despite that fact. Enjoy!**

IIIII

_Chapter Seven: Confession_

IIIII

_Carry on my wayward son,_

_There'll be peace when you are done,_

_Lay your weary head to rest,_

_Don't you cry no more._

_- Carry On My Wayward Son, Kansas -_

IIIIII

The ride to Dr. Transinski's office was more than a little uncomfortable. Edward was unsure of what to say to make things anymore bearable. Alphonse wouldn't say as much but if he was as upset as he looked, there was no way of comforting him anyway. Nothing Ed could say would make this alright. But Al's always been polite so he hasn't verbalized his discomfort because he knows Ed would only lecture him further on how this is the best thing for him.

Alphonse wants to some say in the matter. But at twelve years old, despite his high intelligence level, Ed doesn't think he is capable of making this decision. Al, in a fit of rage that morning, had exclaimed he wouldn't say a word to the psychiatrist about anything. This had only resulted in him receiving a harsh reprimand and he apologized for his outburst before they left. Edward knew Al was only as frustrated as he was about this situation thrust upon them. Neither of them wanted to admit their loss of power but Edward swore he would return Al's self-worth no matter what.

"You'll be sitting in, right?" asked Al softly as they pulled in front of the large brick building.

"Of course." _I don't trust anyone more than you do right now_, Ed mentally added.

"Brother?"

Ed unbuckled himself. "Yeah?"

"Has anyone ever . . . " Al looked out his window, not wanting to meet his brother's eyes. "Has anyone ever done anything really bad to you?"

Ed's eyebrows shot up. He hadn't been expecting that at all. Why would Al assume something bad had happened to him? He hadn't given any inkling of the sort, and there's nothing in recent or long memory that had happened to him which could be categorized as "really bad". Sure, he's been through some rough times and even rougher battles, but he's come away mostly unscathed. Ed still has the occassional nightmare but they aren't severe enough to cause him problems during the day.

"Why do you ask?" cautiously asked Ed.

"Because if whatever happened to me happened to you . . . I don't . . . _Ed _. . . "

Ed shut the car door and turned to his little brother. He could feel a huge confession about to be made and Al needed his full attention. Ed may never get another chance of Al opening up like this again. Still though Al refused to meet his piercing gaze because Al just knew he was going to be condemned for this if he is to admit it. But hadn't his brother already figured it out? No, he only suspected, right? That's why hes always asking questions instead of accusing.

"Did you want to tell me something before we go in?" Ed prodded a little. "I . . . I know this is rough for you but if there's something I need to know you should tell me, Al. I'm not going to push you away if thats what you're thinking." _Or were told_.

"What if something did happen, brother? Would you hate me?"

Edward could feel his heart skip a beat at the mere insinuation of him hating Al. He could _never _hate his little brother.

"Al you know the answer to that. Of course not. I could never hate you."

"You don't know what I did-"

Edward leaned in and in a firm tone said, "It wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was!" Al retorted, uncharacteristically slamming his fist on the seat in fury. "I led him on! It was all my fault! I didn't know how to stop myself though. I . . . I didn't know how I was doing it but . . . "

"Listen to me," Edward said. He managed to keep most of the anger out of his voice. "Roy has been feeding you lies. There was nothing you could have said or done to 'lead him on'. He's a sick pervert who likes vulnerable boys. Unfortunately you were right there when the urges hit and theres nobody but me to blame for that."

"Brother, please. You didn't know."

"I should have! You had nightmares night after night. You were upset for no apparent reason. I don't know what I could have done but I swear to you Al, I swear on Mom's grave, if I had known that it was happening I would have _never _let it go on. Never, you hear me? I would have _killed _him before I knowingly let him lay another finger on you. And the only thing stopping me from killing him right now is that you need me here."

Al unbuckled himself and threw himself into Edward's arms. Edward isn't much a hugging type of person but for Al he'll always make an exception. He wrapped his arms around Al and they're protective arms. Edward will be damned before he lets anyone else hurt his younger brother ever again. He knows he can't keep this promise because the day will come when Al is an adult and has to venture out into the world and make his own mistakes, but, until then, he's not going to let a damn thing through.

Then there was another question itching at Edwards mind that he's not sure if he wanted answered.

"Al, how far did he go?"

Al froze in his arms. He pulled back and looked at Ed as though he couldn't believe he'd even brought it up.

"I know you don't want to answer that - hell, I'm not sure if I want to know - but if he . . . if he went that far, I have to know. The police have to know-"

"The police? Brother no! I can't tell on Mr. Mustang."

"Why the hell not?"

"Because he asked me not to and I promised him I wouldn't."

Edward felt like shaking his little brother until some sense was rattled into him. "Promised? Al, look, I know I don't understand this situation at all but I think your promise is null and void. Theres no reason to keep that promise because you were abused."

"I'm sorry but I can't. I mean, he told me a lot of things that I can't say . . . a lot of bad stuff happened to him too. He even cried, brother. He cried to me a-and I can't betray that trust."

"He's a goddamn adult, Al! He doesn't need to cry on a twelve year old's shoulder! If he has problems he should have gone to see his own psychiatrist," angrily replied Edward. He couldn't believe he was even having this conversation but there it was.

"He couldn't! He's high up in Central! If he admitted that he was a little depressed he would have been stripped of his rank and you know it. Theres no room for the unstable in the military, right?"

"Then he shouldn't be in the military," snapped Ed. "And you know he shouldn't be a high ranking officer if he's a pedophile. It gives him too much power. If you don't turn him in Al he could go on to abuse other children."

Alphonse cringed as though he had never thought of this. Maybe he hadn't, concluded Ed. But he has to be told otherwise Edward may never get him to talk to the police.

"He said I was the only one," Al murmured.

"He told you a bunch of lies," Ed countered.

Al paused for a moment then can't help but say, "You're angry."

"Of course I'm angry! Someone hurt you. I wish _you _were more angry."

"You aren't angry with me?"

Edward sighed and ran a hand over his face. "I'm not angry with you, no. I'm furious with Mustang is all. I'm sorry if I've been over emotional but the fact that someone hurt you strikes a nerve with me. I don't like seeing you in pain."

"I'm not being hurt anymore though." Al tried to sound reassuring.

"He may have stopped abusing you, Al, but the abuse lives on in your head."

"I'm sorry, brother. I wish I knew how to be stronger," said Al.

"You don't need to be stronger. You just need to know how to cope." Edward looked at the building with a healthy amount of nervousness and said, "I guess we're going to be a little late, huh?"

"I still don't want to see him . . . "

"Al, you know you should."

Al sighed and shrugged. "I guess so. I don't know what I'm gonna say though. I don't want to tell anyone else-Brother?" A panicked tone surfaces. "Winry . . . Winry knows, doesn't she?"

Figuring its better that he not lie to the kid he simply nodded.

"Oh . . . " Tears welled up in his eyes and he shook his head to be rid of them. "I guess there's nothing we can do about that. She-she doesn't think I'm gross?"

"No one does," answered Ed. He opened his car door and shoved his keys in his pocket. "Now lets get in before the doc thinks we're skipping."

As Al got out of the car he realized all he cared about is that his brother didn't know the truth about how far it went.

IIIII

Dr. Transinski is around six feet tall and rail thin. He had a bright, toothy grin that was probably meant to be becoming, but turned out to be a little on the creepy side. Edward still got a good vibe from him though. Al had shaken his hand, albiet a little reluctantly.

"Its good to meet you Alphonse. Or do you prefer Al?"

"Al is fine," He replied, his head held high. He decided he wasn't going to back down from this challenge.

Honestly, after his confession, he feels a little lighter. As though a huge burden has been lifted from his small shoulders. It doesn't make the pain go away but it turns it down from a throbbing flame to a strong ache.

"So what do you want to talk about?" questioned Transinski.

"Ummm . . . I don't know. I didn't really want to come in the first place," answered Al truthfully.

"Why not?"

"I don't want to talk about anything."

"I know its scary at first," said Transinski, leaning forward in his chair placed across from the leather couch where Ed and Al sit. "But talking about your problems has been proven to help relieve stress and manage emotional pain. It may not make all of your agony go away but it certainly doesn't hurt to try and fix it."

Al tried to think in this context but its hard. Especially when you've had it drilled into you for two years that it's going to wreck havoc if you talk about your problems.

"Lets start from the beginning," said Transinski. He tented his fingers underneath his chin and with a knowing stare he added, "Why don't you tell me about how scared you were the first time it happened."

Al clammed up.

_Does everybody know?_

Even Edward wasn't sure if he wanted to hear this part. He couldn't deal with the thought of Al being frightened - alone, desperate, scared - without him. But if the good doctor thought its for the best . . .

"C'mon Al. You can do this."

Al gave Ed a sideways glance, as though to question is ability to be able to do this, but he sighed and murmured, "Just . . . just really, really scared. I-I didn't know what to do. So I, um, just . . . "

"Take your time. And feel free to say anything that pops into your head whether you think its okay to say or not. There is no judgment here."

"Why does it matter how scared I was?" Al immediately retorted. "I don't even want to be here. No offense meant but _I don't want to talk_. Niether of you know how I feel-"

"Which is why I want you to tell us," Transinski calmly replied despite Al's rising, frantic tone.

"I feel like I'm going to explode! I feel like I'm dying! I don't know, maybe that'd be best, because if I die inside I don't have to feel anything, right? I feel horrible for being a burden to my brother. And sometimes I don't know _how _to feel. Some mornings I wake up and I'm fine and other times I wake up and I'm completely lost. And when I feel like its all becoming too much I have to bite myself to escape it. And its all because of _him _. . . " Als hands became fists.

"Tell me about him too, if you'd like," suggested Transinski.

Al looked at his brother once again but it was only a quick glance. He didn't want to mention Mustang because he knew Edward would only get furious. He was already looking sick at what Al had already admitted. He'd feel insurmountably more guilty if he were to make Ed even more disturbed. But he barreled on anyway.

"Mr. Mustang was my best friend and is now my worst enemy. Its the only way I can describe it."

"Why don't you describe the best friend part."

"Well . . . he would take me out to fairs and bookstores and buy me whatever I wanted. I guess I was kinda selfish back then but I liked the attention he was giving me - well, that was before . . . and I-I honestly didn't know he was going to turn on me. If I had I never would have taken those presents. H-He said I owed him."

It took everything Edward had not to speak up. After all, he had to let Transinski do his job.

Transinski's warm blue eyes met with Al's and he shook his head. "No, Al. I can assure you, you owed him nothing. No amount of gifts or presents he gave you could have justified what was done. But go on, tell me about this other side."

All Al could manage was, "It's dark. Really dark."

"I want to tell you something, Al. I think you're really brave." The twelve year old cast him an odd glance. "No really, I do. Coming in here and going through what you've been through? It takes courage. And you're right, me nor your brother know what you're going through right now. Which is why you have to do your best to explain it. Talk it out. I've been in the mental health field for longer than I care to remember and I've seen people try to be stoic, try to hold it inside, because they think if they let it out they're weak. But its the exact opposite. It takes an honorable, brave person to open up and admit their problems. Which is why I can honestly say I'm humbled by you. I'm sure if I had gone through what you did I wouldn't have dealt with it nearly as gracefully."

"B-but I haven't been handling it good-"

"I don't think anyone can handle it 'good'. The best we can hope for is simply handling it." Transinski smiled down at him and shrugged. "It's only my opinion, Al. You may take it or leave it; whichever you prefer."

Al actually smiled. A genuine smile.

_Maybe this guy will make it halfway bearable_, thought Ed, wrapping an arm around Al proudly.

IIIIII

**I want to say that I appreciate all of the reviews I've recieved thusfar. It's good to know whether you enjoy it or not! So review and tell me if you hate it or if you kinda sorta almost like it.**


End file.
